


(I Tell Everyone I Smile Just Because I’ve Got a) City Love

by gomushroom



Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-14
Updated: 2015-09-14
Packaged: 2018-10-12 02:46:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10480413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gomushroom/pseuds/gomushroom
Summary: It’s the second time incumbent Sakurai Sho becomes candidate in Minato Mayor election and Campaign Professional Matsumoto Jun is back in Tokyo as his Campaign Manager. It’s their second chance.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for astrangerenters.
> 
> I truly apologize that it took the span of six Arashi single releases for me to finish this jpnforph charity fic. *facepalm. Real life happened and this universe kept on expanding and refusing to come full circle, overwhelming me to no end. What great prompts you’ve given me; this is my attempt on writing one of them, albeit a bit disjointed in parts because I wrote this in small pieces, in a long span of time. I hope you enjoy this 'political campaign' AU ♥!
> 
> It took the span of six Arashi single releases for me to finish this jpnforph charity fic. *facepalm. Real life happened and this universe kept on expanding and refusing to come full circle, overwhelming me to no end. This is my attempt on writing one of the prompts, albeit a bit disjointed in parts because I wrote this in small pieces, in a long span of time. 
> 
> Title is from John Mayer’s song, a melody that very often brought me back into writing this fic. I’m also blaming _Sayonara no Ato de_ , just because. Some quotes from one of The Beatles’s song were included in the dialogue. I took most of the running a campaign bits from one[ Political Campaign Planning Manual](http://www.google.com/url?q=https://www.ndi.org/files/Political_Campaign_Planning_Manual_Malaysia_0.pdf&sa=U&ved=0CBQQFjAAahUKEwj38uei5t_HAhWIcY4KHa3jD3w&sig2=H9cFb7dUysbgbQBqA-l3Sg&usg=AFQjCNENuMHZ0NlO1_eZc1ygJYveLrtdiQ) – bless you, I can probably run one hell of a campaign (for Sakurai Sho) if opportunity occurs, LOL. And the [Minato City website](http://www.city.minato.tokyo.jp) turned out to be helpful at the end. 
> 
> I also had great help from different beautiful people at different stages of writing this fic – for the pompoms and cheer for me to keep working this over-complicated universe, for the inside info, for the Tokyo political background. Thank you T, who beta-ed one fifth of this, and L, who gave another one fifth of this a read; any remaining mistakes are mine. I haven’t talked to you guys in a long time, yet this fic will never turn into its shape if it weren’t for you, ilu~!

**Now**

“Caught you in a good time?”

Jun smiles at the greeting from the other line, fixing his bag on his shoulder and walking slower, now that he’s out of the crowded station—he doesn’t actually miss Tokyo morning rush hour. He makes his way down the road leisurely, after a glance to his wristwatch. Still 20 minutes before his appointment, he could spare some time to finally catch up with the news from Nino’s side. “Maybe.”

“Nice.” Jun can hear Nino says, sounding like sporting a smile himself—so early in the morning. “So, I got your late night email and was wondering if I should give you a call.”

“Which you did anyway,” Jun says, taking quick glance on the green pedestrian light on the intersection before quickening his pace to cross the street. “What you got for me then?”

“I’m not a miracle worker, you know, and you never ask easy favors,” Nino answers, and Jun can hear sound of papers rustling on the background. “And since you asked for a certain statistical method and the data wouldn’t be so easy to obtain—meaning there would be a lot of groveling to perform—I need a week to provide you with a proper dossier.”

“What happened to the claim of being the best?” Jun says, holding a beat before adding, “and the fastest.”

Nino groans and Jun laughs at that. “You are deliberately being painstakingly difficult, you know that.”

“You know I always am,” Jun says, “And just like you, I’m also the best; we never get the easy ones. Are you going to officially complain this time?”

“Point is, one week, Jun-kun. No less. I don’t want to get sloppy. It’s been a while since I need to snoop around Tokyo government files. Now that I have my full concentration of being local and not properly centralized, mind you.” 

“Sad to hear. You’ve basically been thoroughly spoiled by the e-system. Yet I won’t be asking an easy favor from the best.” Another beat. “And the fastest after all.”

“You know I’ll get it done and I’m flattered really, but your sarcasm is lacking a bite. Must be the nervousness, late into the morning, with all the Tokyo rush. I can hear heavy traffic.”

Jun rolls his eyes; he can practically see Nino’s grinning. “See if I will buy you fancy dinner when you’re back in Tokyo.”

Nino chuckles on the other side of the line. “I was trying to be nice and there you were threatening me.” 

“Just send it when it’s done, okay? I probably could ask for some additional legal docs from the mayor’s office. I just need to know who now have their hands in the council pie. I’ll confirm back to you then.”

“Make sure you do,” Nino says, tone now turns back to serious; it is business after all.

“I’ll talk to you later, Nino. Thanks.”

Nino doesn’t answer, and Jun puts his phone away back in his bag as he makes a left turn and finds the building in front of him, unflattering plain yet holding so much pride and importance. 

As he stops on the corner for a while with the municipal building in plain sight, wondering what has changed from the day he walked out the very building with the promise of never looking back, Jun could only notice the ordinary, the building, and what it has done for him in the past. 

*

He calmly approaches the reception desk. "Good morning."

"Good morning." A friendly yet unfamiliar face welcomes him. "What can I do for you, Sir?"

"I have an appointment today with the Mayor’s office. My name is Matsumoto."

The receptionist glances at her notepad, distractedly skimming before giving cursory smiles. She asks him to sign his name, and Jun nods at her afterward and heads straight to the elevator security. 

Inside, the elevator announces his floor destination as he stares at his visitor card in hand with open amusement. This luxury of being a stranger won’t last long, he muses. Here comes complexity, and finally, returning to the past. 

He steps out of the elevator and another security guard greets him. Without any more halt, he then walks down across few cubicles and reaches the end of the hall. 

The door is wide open, and—so much for working up his nervousness, Jun tells himself—there he is. 

The man, whom Jun has been so nervous about, stands with his back to the door. The Sakurai Sho. The incumbent Mayor of Minato, with his fancy suit, in his office, currently doing the dull task of sorting documents on his secretary desk.

“I thought you’d have more people guarding this sacred office,” Jun says, his voice a bit hoarse, his throat hurts for a reason he couldn’t—wouldn’t—pin down. He bows lightly as he announces his presence. “Good morning, Mayor, Sir.”

Sho freezes before turning to meet his gaze and Jun has to hold his reflex to flinch because Sho looks exceptional. Well, except for some creases on his suit—it’s barely shy nine o’clock in the morning, and he seems to have already going through a few meetings; a pair tired eyes meets Jun’s gaze greedily, along with the visible guarded hunched posture. 

Under the polished smile, the polite grin, the public face of Sakurai Sho, Jun knows that it is as good as a warm official welcome he could get and he leaves their quick first glance after a long while at that.

“Oh. Jun. I didn’t expect you for another—” Sho says, glancing up to the big clock on the wall and finding it’s only a minute before nine. “Well, it’s practically nine already. I guess I was too occupied with the morning rounds. And they haven’t got back, I see. So. Let’s have you—. I’ll have— I guess, we can start there.” Sho makes a weak gesture to his open office door with one hand while the other holds a stack of documents. 

Jun smiles at the gesture; he was expecting a bit more formal setting or going through too many necessities before he’s going to meet him. But he certainly wasn’t expecting this either. “Where’s the gang? Or are you usually alone at this time?”

“They are down on the second floor for a short meeting and should be back in less than half an hour,” Sho says, looking away to set his documents aside. “I feel like I must warn you, they are very excited to see you. You know how they are.”

Jun stays rooted by the door, waiting for Sho to finish with the documents in hand. It takes a while longer than necessary, in Jun’s opinion but he’s not complaining. “It’s fine. Do you need time to settle those first? I can wait.”

“What? Oh, these?” Sho looks down to the now neatly arranged documents on the desk. “No, not really. I’ll need this for later, and since you’re here already, let’s get down to business.”

And with that word, their bubble breaks and, just as Sho said, business begins.

Jun slightly stiffens at the off-hand comment and he can see that Sho notices him and then sighs. “I’m sorry, I just—“

“No need. Come on in. I should be able to serve coffee for you.” Sho leads them to the office and waits by the door, until Jun steps in. Sho then closes the door with a soft click before gesturing to the set of chairs on the center of the room. “Have a seat.” 

Jun lets out a small smile at the formality. “I feel like an official guest.”

“You technically are my official guest this morning. Before we begin the meeting,” Sho says as he walks to the corner table. “Black with two sugars, right?”

“Yes.”

Sho quietly prepares the coffee, taking his time, while Jun takes a seat on one of the chair and tries to suppress the pleasant feeling to know that Sho still remembers how he takes his coffee—it’s nothing and it should stay nothing. They just spent time drinking coffee a lot and there’s that.

Jun looks around and finds the office calming in a certain way. No fuss—that’s very Sho, and still official—well, that’s also Sho. “I thought you’d have more photos plastered on your walls. You’ve been around with important people, haven’t you?”

Sho shrugs lightly as he brings two steaming mugs to the table, taking a seat across Jun. “I like everything neat and sparse anyway.”

“That you do.”

“Here you go.” Sho sets the mug in front of Jun and then reaches for his own before starting to take the first sip. “I haven’t had my second shot so this is a good reason to have another dose before noon.”

Jun reaches the mug, nearly sighs from the heavenly scent. He takes a small sip and finds himself nearly weeping at the strong and hot and electrifying caffeine kick. “Oh, god, is this the perk of being in office?”

“You can say that. Coffee is the best thing about this job.” Sho seems almost relaxed, leaning against the back of the sofa just a little bit—but Jun still picks up the subtle change. 

Jun continues to sip the coffee, letting silence lingers, sensing that they are both trying to ready themselves for what they are about to discuss—as Sho has said—business. 

It is then Sho who begins the talk—as it was always—and Jun would be lying if he said he wasn’t expected it. 

“Soon it’s going to be the third year of my term.” Sho puts aside his coffee mug, back on leaning against his seat, but stiffer than before. “Let’s just have it known that I am counting the days. It’d save us trouble and you don’t have to guess, and probably it would make my point even easier to interpret. I’m under order to run again for the next election and I would like for you to head the campaign again.”

“Straight to the point, Sho-san. I didn’t expect any less.”

“You’d know,” Sho says softly with a polite smile. 

Still, the smile is so polite that Jun could not possibly miss the implication. Sure, he would know. He knows almost everhitng about this man, one who sits trying to not look nervous in front of him in his fancy suit. Or perhaps it’s better not to term this in present tense. He knew this man. Four years ago, he knew everything about this man, before Jun decided to walk away without even looking back. But what is he doing here right now if it isn’t looking back and trying to relive the past? Jun can’t be sure and but somehow he’s here and it’s the time to look ahead, for a new project. 

That’s all. 

“So I am here already, reporting for duty. I already drafted my contract and sent all the official documents to your lawyers’ office. They should have them by now.”

With soft voice, not entirely able to mask his excitement, Sho says, “I truly appreciate you coming back for the campaign.” 

“I didn’t do it for you,” Jun says, a beat too fast.

“Well, still,” Sho says, smile faltering just a little bit. “Thank you. I’m glad you didn’t turn down the offer.”

In lack of better thing to do Jun focuses on his coffee mug again, letting another slashing silence lingers on the empty office. He certainly doesn’t expect Sho to be on friendly term this morning—he was prepared for a cold shoulder, perhaps a punch in the face or something the like, or even worse, getting redirected to work with assistants. Instead he’s here sharing cups of coffee with Sho, all polite and quiet.

Jun then comes up with the question he has wanted to ask since he received a confirmation that he’s going to have a meeting at the city hall this morning. “I guess the office has been treating you well? You look good.”

“Thank you. And, yes, it’s been a good year.”

Jun doesn’t miss a slight hesitation and vagueness in Sho’s answer. He trusts his own trained observation skills and asks to ask another question. “You, in lack of better word, change.” 

“So does every one else,” Sho says, showing no apparent emotion even though his eyes trained fast at Jun.

It’s time they’re going back to the purpose of the meeting—even though he was the one who wanted to strike a conversation, just for old time’s sake, just for the sake of politeness—Jun realizes. He fears another opening could only lead to another subject, so diversion is needed before they veer off to other matter, other matter that he doesn’t want to deal with at the moment. There should be time, later, way later, along their next year. He needs to take a step back and reassess this, whatever this is. 

“To begin with everything, I would need to read your annual reports and—“

“—Aiba could get them ready for you. You are also welcome to access almost anything.”

“I’ll have them reviewed first and within the week we’re going to have—“

“—countless meetings?”

“I don’t even see the reason you need a campaign manager if you’re insisting in finishing my plan by yourself.”

Sho sobers instantly at the fast retort. “Okay, sorry for that. I just can’t help to tease, lighten up the air here a bit. Do go on.”

“You are always one,” Jun says under his breath, eying Sho for a while, trying to find something, something to break. He finds this new Sho a little bit annoying—and it should’ve shown on his face, frowning in slight confusion. 

“Sorry?”

“Nothing.” Jun shakes his head, answering and clearing up his own thoughts. “Can I continue my explanation of the general plan then?”

“Of course.”

 

**Then**

His wristwatch shows that it’s going to be 10 more minutes before their appointment at the Plaza. Jun reaches his coffee cup before startling over the loud knocks on the high glass window beside him. 

Then a muffled sound greets him. “Yo! Matsujun!” 

Hand frozen above his cup, Jun turns and finds Councilman Nagase sporting sleek hair, loose crumpled suit, and a big grin across his face. Standing on the low edge of short plants, the man does nothing but waves enthusiastically at him. He merely sighs at the sight, gesturing the man to go to the entrance and properly join him. 

Nagase laughs at his prompt gesture, giving a thumb up before prancing his way toward the front door. And Jun rises from his seat, walking toward the window to follow the man with his eyes, just making sure nothing else happened. 

Councilman probably has had a drink or two or a lot before the appointment—such a carefree person at the core. Yet he could be scary serious when he puts his mind into it. And it was his serious call that got Jun here in the first place. It doesn’t actually matter; Jun will tolerate eccentricity to a level as long as he gets his job done. 

The man strides to their table, hands deep on his pocket; the only thing that shows his status was a glinting councilman pin on his suit lapel. Other than that, Nagase could easily pass as a high-class thug—or so what Jun was told. 

Jun bows deeply to greet him. “Councilman Nagase. Good evening.”

To his surprise, Nagase does exactly the opposite of his expectation. He bows as deeply as Jun and greets him formally. “Good evening to you too. I’m sorry to call you up at this hour.”

“It’s not a problem at all. If I can be a help, that’d be an honor.”

Nagase snorts at Jun’s statement, before he sets himself on the sofa across Jun. He motions Jun to take his seat. A waiter materializes beside him with a greeting bow.

“I’ll have whiskey on rocks,” Nagase says absently. “And do you want anything else other than coffee?”

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

The waiter walks away in silent, leaving the two men to their business. 

“Matsujun,” Nagase starts, leaning his head a bit to take the man in front of him. “You don’t have to be so nervous.”

“I’m not,“ Jun says, a little bit too quick. “Well, perhaps a little bit, but not too much. All in all, not nervous.”

Nagase only laughs as he nods his thanks to the waiter who comes with his order. 

“I’m not, Councilman. Or if I am, it will not affect my work performance.”

“As usual, taking things very seriously,” Nagase says, sipping his whiskey in leisure before turning into a serious low voice. “Yet, I believe you have already done your homework now that you’re here.”

“I have.” Jun nods as he straightens his posture. “Although I’m still perplexed over the fact that you would want me to take such important assignment.”

“It was our decision. The assembly session was held and you with that impeccable track record of yours is the best choice there is.”

“I’m deeply honored that you have put such trust in me, Nagase-san.”

“Stop with the bowing and honorific, will you? And it’s not an honor per se. You’ve earned this trust. You’ve earned your track record.” This time, Nagase is the one who bows his head to Jun. “And it’s our honor to have you for this assignment.”

And it only spurs Jun to bow deeper. 

“We’ll be in your care then,” Nagase says, lifting his head up only to see that Jun is still bowing. “Okay, seriously, we need to stop being so formal to each other, Matsujun!”

Jun raises his head and meet Nagase’s serious eyes. He nods his agreement and reaches his now-cold coffee cup. He grimaces over the stale thick liquid and sighs; he is nervous after all.

Nagase slouches a bit on his seat. “Now, that we finish being formal to each other, can we have fun for a little while? To catch up and for old time sake?”

“You haven’t changed a bit,” Jun says with a small smile. “I have expected to have a formal meeting at the Ward office or something but here you are suggesting this fancy hotel.”

Nagase waves his hand in dismissal. “You’ll be even more formal in the office. My head hurts just to think of how you’re going to be so overly polite.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being overly polite. You of all people should know that,” Jun says, now relaxing more into his seat, still sipping the stale coffee. Probably he should order another set, this one has turned barely drinkable. 

“Yeah. That’s how it works unfortunately. There’s nothing we can do about it. Enough formality. The more important matter is how much backlog homework has you done for this? Is it correct for me to assume that you have gone through his whole history?” 

Jun nods. “I have perused all the documents you provided. I also have had my staffs run through a thorough research regarding Sakurai Sho.”

“Good. You too haven’t changed a bit, haven’t you?” Nagase says, a pleased smile on his face. “I have expected no less of you. It’s good to know that you’re still as good as you were.”

“I’m better now. Way better,” Jun says, with a full-blown confidence. His work is his pride, and it will not be an exaggeration to say that he has improved his skills gradually since the year one. Formality aside, he won’t hold back on his achievement; he works his earnest and, fuck formality, he’ll sing his own praises on a job well done.

Nagase laughs at his statement. “Nice to know we’re on good hands then.”

Jun checks his watch. “Almost 20 minutes past 10. Is he late?”

“No,” Nagase says, focusing on his whiskey again, hiding a smile. “Actually I told him that we’re meeting half past 10, half an hour later than our agreed time.”

“Huh?”

“See, I know you’re going to be annoying formal in the beginning, knowing you, and we haven’t met since what, four, five years back?” 

“And?”

“Just to give us some time to catch up.”

“You’re unbelievable sometimes.”

“That’s what you said now.” 

“It’s your job, Matsujun, to do proper research and planning. And then to properly forecast and assess the feasible risks.” 

“I will be working for you, am I right? That’s the one thing I wanted to confirm. Who am I working for? Who’s to report? Or at pinched time, to whom I must report? Who’s order to follow? I haven’t even met this Sakurai Sho.”

“I’ll leave it to your discretion. I trust you to have good judgment when it comes to this. You know the rope pretty good, I believe.”

“That’s not entirely true. I don’t usually work for an publicly independent candidate. It goes without saying that I will offer my best ability to help and complete the job, the project, whatever you want to call it. But I need to know to whom I answer,” Jun ends his explanation in a soft voice. “It’s important.” 

“In that case, you answer to him. And you report to us. Not necessarily on a full run-on basis, but just a general overview. Is everything working as plan, or is there anything we need to do to help?”

“I haven’t even known the big plan.” 

“He’ll brief you,” Nagase says, lightly waving the concern. He puts his glass back on the table and sits back against the couch leisurely. “Or if I read this right and know you well enough, you’re going to make the big plan with him.” 

“This job suddenly turns very vague now.” 

“Well, it won’t be the first and it won’t be the last. Now, Sakurai should be here any minute. Let me ask you one last question while we’re still alone. What do you think of him? Let’s hear both your professional and nonprofessional opinion out.”

“Nonprofessionally? He’s fucking hot, even with his daily shabby appearance. Perhaps in need of just a bit of make over,” Jun says, with a smirk. 

Nagase laughs loudly. “I am totally aware of that. We need not worry about first impression then. Anything else?” 

There’s a slight change on Nagase’s face as Jun goes on with a more serious tone.

“Career-wise, he is suspiciously clean,” Jun says, concern loud on his voice. “Going through his record, there’s nothing but achievements. Great ones at that, don’t get me wrong. It’s amazing for a man in such a young age, for an upcoming politician to start a political career with such record. But if I, who technically am going to work with him, already have such feeling, I don’t even want to start thinking what the rivals would think. It’s dangerous.” 

Nagase only nods in response.

“It’s going to be one of my first priorities,” Jun continues. “To settle the ground. If we’re going to do this, I believe in doing it right. He needs to have some qualities that people will hate.” 

A deep voice comes from the back of his chair. “I see.”

Jun swears under his breath—goddamn, Councilman Nagase, for letting this happened—before turning and finding Sakurai Sho standing behind his couch, with his disheveled hair, staring back at him with a pair of cold eyes. 

He rises immediately, bowing in both apology and greeting. “I’m sorry. I was. We were just. I-I don't. That wasn’t for you to hear.”

Jun looks up to find the coldness doesn’t waver even a bit. Sho continues to stare at him with a strange expression before shifting his attention to Nagase, who’s been watching the whole exchange in an unmasked amusement. 

“Councilman Nagase. Good evening,” Sho says coldly, “I can see you have already started without me.”

“Sakurai-kun.” Nagase stands up, taking his time to brush off invisible lint off his suit, before giving his bow. “We haven’t started. No worries. We were just catching up a little bit.”

Sho only inclines his head further in question. “Catching up a bit?”

“Well, yes, among other things. You arrived at such a perfect time. I guess we have been a bit too eager to start.”

Sho turns from Nagase to see Jun’s offering open apology with his expression. He takes no heed of it. For now. “I see.”

“And now since you’re here,” Nagase continues, gesturing Sho to take a seat as well, “shall we?”

*

“I’ve set this meeting as an informal introduction.” Nagase sips his whiskey refill as he observes both men in front of him, both with straighten pose, stiff with politeness, sitting almost in the opposite of the long couch. “So please take everything that happened here as an informal introduction. No more no less.”

Sho hums his response as he slowly sips his coffee. 

Nagase continues. “Long story short. Sensei, I would like you to meet Matsumoto Jun. He’s been in the profession for quite a while, a raising star in Japan PR business, and effective immediately, your campaign manager.”

Jun turns to Sho’s direction, bows deeply, and efficiently offers his business card without a glitch. On the opposite side of the couch, Sho instinctively bows in reply while taking Jun’s card. 

“Ah, I must give you mine then,” Sho says, hands reaching into his front pocket and quickly offering his card in return. 

Jun takes the card and examines it. He runs his finger at the embossed Keio University logo on the right end before looking up to meet Sho’s eyes. “I apologize for what I’ve said earlier. I’m sure it sounded terrible but I could say that I didn’t mean that even a bit. They were mere detailed observations.”

Shrugging, Sho nods in answer. “I see.”

And for tonight, Jun knew that it’s the best he could hope for. He settles in his seat right after Sho did.

“Disheartening,” Nagase says, smiling widely at the exchange. “I just know it. You guys are going very formal around each other.”

“Nagase-san,” Jun objects again, “There’s nothing wrong with being polite.”

“I have to agree to that.” Sho finally speaks up, leaning back against the arm of the couch, making sure he could address both Nagase and Jun at the same time. “But now that we could set the formality aside, why don’t we cut this down to the chase?” 

“We talked about this before, Sensei,” the Councilman answer smoothly. “We thought it would be better if you get acquainted with Matsumoto as soon as possible. Have you, by any chance, read the documents we gave you?”

“I have.”

“Then I don’t have to get long and winded with introduction then,” Nagase continues. “Matsumoto has also received your files and was merely making unofficial comments. He’s exceptionally professional just as his record indicated. I’m sure you both can begin the preparation work straightaway. We’re looking forward for real results.”

“Real result huh?” Sho says. “I’m grateful for the endorsement. But I must ask if this is even necessary.”

“Sensei, trust me. It’s annoying to deal with Matsumoto, especially when it’s on formal setting. Let’s say you owe me for the meeting and leave it at that.”

Sho only raises his eyebrows in question, turning to Jun for confirmation. 

Jun frowns at the statement. “I’m not annoying. Thank you very much.”

“You are,” Nagase brushes off the protests. “But Sensei here is, dare I say it, equally annoying. You two could be annoying duo or something. We are all in your hands.”

“Careful there, Councilman” Sho says, hands folded in front of his chest. “Please don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“We never do. You have things to talk about later, I sure. I’ll leave you two now.” Nagase turns to Jun. “And you, I expect your report within two weeks. Same goes to you, Sensei. I also believe we’ll be meeting again soon.” 

Without giving both of them the chance to reply, Nagase swiftly stands, bows deeply before walking away from the vast lobby. “Now, I leave you two alone to discuss details. Good evening, gentlemen.”

*

“I appreciate the time you’ve made tonight for this—I supposed useless—meeting,” Sho begins, very sudden, surprising Jun all the same, yet he doesn’t turn to face Jun to address him. “I’m not in the best mood tonight and I intend to make a formal complaint to Councilman.”

Jun turns and slides a little bit so he could face Sho, even if the other man doesn’t move from his previous position. He waits for Sho to finish, shifting, holding back his own impatience. 

They sit awkwardly on the couch. Somehow it’s not easy to talk while they are side by side—not that close though.

“That was awkward at the end.”

“It was awkward from the beginning though.” Jun turns, trying to offer a weak smile. One moment he was catching up with an old friend and the next there’s this Sakurai Sho, his assignment, all serious and all. 

“Just so you know, unlike Councilman Nagase, I do prefer a formal setting to set up our further discussion.” Sho stares into his teacup, bending forward to flutter his fingers on the rim absently. 

“I am not fond of this either, Sakurai-san. It did feel like an ambush, didn’t it?” Jun offers a line. Really, Nagase should have stayed long enough to repair the damage. Jun is going to work with the man beside him for quite a long time and now he’s getting a silent treatment on top of the awkward introduction. 

Sho only hums, still in his own daze and Jun doesn’t prod further, he might as well finish his coffee, taking the time to come up with a reason later to excuse himself. 

*

It’s well pass dinnertime and the quiet hush of people rushing in and out of the lobby has subsided. Jun sinks further into the plush sofa, practicing his lines over and over in his head. 

Nervousness has brought him almost an hour early to their meeting place and it hasn’t subsided even a bit. After all, it was one of the biggest assignments he is going to take charge of. The offer doesn’t come easy and he isn’t planning to take it lightly; he in fact stayed up few nights just to make sure that he gathered all the available public data on his assignment. 

He gives a short glance to his briefcase on the floor, knowing that he could simply reach out and produced the printed documents in a heartbeat. No room for error this time, he has learned that there’s nothing as much as being properly prepared; it’s exactly the time for it. 

Jun can only itch to do something, anything. Anything else than holding his teacup while fully aware of the presence of the annoyed man beside him.

The night drags on.

 

**Now**

The moment Jun steps back into the hallway, a swirl of pastel colors fills his vision and suddenly a pair of arms in soft fluffy sweater finds him and hugs him tight. “You’re back!”

“Becky,” Jun says with a chuckle, “you are suffocating me.”

Becky lifts her head, completely beaming in delight. “Matsujun, you’re back.”

“I am. Now let me go. You’re not even drunk yet and you’re already very clingy.”

Becky chuckles and lets Jun go. She’s still practically bouncing on her feet, sending Jun her brightest smile. 

Sho could only smile bitterly, being the non-participant of this small reunion. He sees Aiba walking down to them. “Aiba. Get Jun whatever file he needs. I’ll sign the authorization later.”

“Yes, Sir.” Aiba nods as he stops in behind Becky, his smile matching to her, beaming at Jun. 

“I’ll leave you guys to it then,” Sho says softly, turning to go back to his office, closing the door with a soft click. 

“Matsujun,” Aiba says, his tone low, his eyes shining from what Jun could only assume as the beginning of happy tears. 

“Aiba, do not tear up, especially here and now.”

Aiba ignores him all the same and for the second time that day, Jun finds his arms full of his old colleague. “Matsujun, you’re back!”

“You guys are hopeless as ever.” Jun could only pat Aiba’s back as his eyes meet Becky’s. “Enough of this, really. You heard your boss. I need some files.”

“They are not going anywhere,” Aiba says, finally letting Jun go, but not with the teary grin. “You’re having lunch with us, right?”

Jun could only roll his eyes as Becky squeals with delight as she high fives Aiba. “I guess so.”

Aiba is deliberately holding back the documents and Jun knows it. He lets that go, busying himself with his email inbox as he waits on the lounging room, watching the two work to finish their morning workload.

It surely brings another rush of memory into his mind—inbox all checked and set aside. Back then on the days, it’d be him at the center, lashing his orders and triple-checking everything that came by his hands. Today Jun has the pleasure to witness Aiba and Becky seamlessly working perfectly without him at the center and it hurts and spreads joy in him all the same.

Sho comes out from his office after an hour. If he’s surprised to see Jun is still on the lounge room, he doesn’t show it. He steps to Becky’s desk, handing her a stack of paper and asking her to check his schedule.

“We’d be out for lunch in few minutes, Sir. Do you have anything else you need us to do before that?” Aiba says, just as Sho passes his desk to get back to his office.

“Both of you?”

“Yes. All of us.”

“I’ve got everything I need for the afternoon. You go enjoy your lunch then.” 

The door clicks softly again, letting Sho out of the lounge and leaving the three of them back to their own little celebration. Jun has tried to ask—shouldn’t we ask him to come with us or something, even if he declines, at least he’s your boss, but Aiba and Becky dismiss his question easily. “He has a luncheon at 12.30 and he needs to sit on a meeting with the council division afterward. He’s too busy concentrating on his speech after all. It’d better to not bother him.”

They are walking out the office, and Jun finds the same receptionist still sitting behind the front desk now; their eyes meet and Jun nods again this time before returning to the two people currently bouncing on his sides. “And you guys, being good chiefs, decides to leave him alone so you can have lunch with me?”

“He’d have fancy food delivered. What else could we do?”

They both sport almost the same grin and Jun couldn’t help but laughing. “You guys are really hopeless as ever.”

“Matsujun, we miss you, too,” Aiba says, giving a round smack on Jun’s shoulder. “Now, what do say we’re going for the _omurice_ special and you can tell us all about your previous fancy projects.”

After a short walk, they meet an end of a long queue. The restaurant is small and elegant, or so Becky shows him on the screen of her phone. All Jun could think about is the queue starts three blocks back and they will never get their lunch at this hour. They settle at the end of the queue, inching forward every five minutes, and now Aiba and Becky have Jun for themselves.

Aiba claps his hand, rounding Jun with another smile. “So? Deets?”

Jun chuckles at the anticipated question. “It’s nothing much to tell. I’m afraid I’d be running out of stories by the time our queue time is over.”

Becky does the same gesture as Aiba and Jun nearly laughs if it wasn’t for her question. “Is it true that you refused to work for Councilman Joushima of Akita for his Prime Ministry candidacy and chose to work for Sakurai-san again instead?”

“You don’t change a bit, Becky. Always going for the meat, I see,” Jun says with amusement, but he doesn’t give an answer. Instead he points that their queue is moving forward and takes a step away from the eager two.

“Well, is it true or not?” Becky presses further. “People are talking, Matsujun. They said you choose an easy mark this time and the same time, stupid move, since you’re taking a municipal level instead of going national.”

“I am here, aren’t I?”

“So, it is true?” Aiba says.

“I signed the papers already. You guys are stuck with me for another year,” Jun says. Both of them have grown better all these years—with Aiba using his height advantage to try staring him down for info and Becky pushing her merry phone as mock-microphone in this faux-interview style. “And Councilman Joushima was not aiming for PM. The last time I spoke to him, it was clear that he wants something else, something I cannot divulge here on the queue line of lunch break.”

“Oh, that’s interesting,” they both say in unison, with Aiba nodding his head and Becky raising her eyebrows.

“Which one? Something else Councilman Joushima wanted or my signing the papers.”

Becky answers with a bright smile. “Both, but more on the second.”

“We are going to have a great year, Matsujun.” Aiba punches him lightly on the left arm. “Becky here is hopeless when it comes to party arrangement. At least now with you around, we can have a real fun.”

Becky huffs. “Lunch is definitely on you, Aiba-kun.”

“No worries. It’s on Matsujun,” Aiba says, before turning back to Jun with wiggling eyebrows. “Right?”

Jun continues to observe the two, even if they are now turning their faces toward Jun and waits—and it just hits him, the old days, where he spent most of his time shouting at these two. 

He has made Becky cry more than he could count, and Aiba even more. Along with Nino, they had formed a great team. There were even more tears when he had told them that he was going to end his contract and left newly sworn Mayor Sho for another project. 

And now here he is, downtown Tokyo, queuing lunch just like the old days. “You guys do miss me.”

Becky punches his right arm this time. “Get that fact inside that thick head of yours. At least I’m not going to blubber about it, unlike Aiba-kun over here.”

“I can blubber all I want, now that Matsujun is here.”

Jun rolls his eyes. “Let’s keep the blubber to a minimum, please.” 

They inches forward a little bit more, getting to near the door, talking about Jun’s Fukuoka project. 

“Okay, enough about me. How about you guys?”

Aiba and Becky look at each other and shrug. Jun senses an underlying urge to tell him more stories. There will be time, later, when they are not standing in an alley for lunch, but Jun makes a mental note to talk to each of them soon.

“Ah, I’ve wanted to ask,” Aiba says instead. “How’s Nino?”

This time Jun laughs out loud. “There. I knew it. You don’t miss me, you miss him.”

Aiba grins. “Yeah, we take what we can, so don’t you worry, Matsujun. We do miss you but it has been a while since I talked to him, so I am asking you about him.”

“He’s stuck in Fukuoka for another month or two or maybe longer, but he’s still working on research and documents as usual,” Jun says. “He’s going to be here by the end of year, I guess.”

“Oh, and then we can be fully united!” This time Becky grins so wide, Jun practically see a glow out of her.

“Becky, stop talking about us like we are a bunch of heroes –united and all,” he says. “It’s creepy.”

“No it’s not. It’s cool,” Aiba corrects him. He’s smiling before turning toward the maître de on the door who gestures they can be seated now. “Oh, we’re in. Come on let’s go. I’m starving.”

“It’s about time,” Jun says, “and it’d better be good, this _omurice_.”

Becky grins. “It is. Trust us, we’ve been having lunch here way too many times.”

*

The _omurice_ is exceptional and Jun needs to hold back to not ordering a second plate. Instead, he goes with Becky recommendation of having pudding, whatever that is, for dessert. After this satisfactory _omurice_ , he’s not going to question her meal recommendation ever again.

Aiba finishes his side _katsu_ dish and now beginning to send smile at Becky and Jun for more food.

Becky simply scoots her plate closer and ignores Aiba. She turns to Jun, “So, you’re practically leaving the governor race in in Fukuoka for this, this Minato mayor little thing?”

The topping of the pudding is sinful. Jun slides the plate toward Aiba with a thumb up. “Well, Nino’s down there. He’s good. He’s very good.”

“But not as good for you,” Becky says with a smile. “Pompous governor’s level people usually don’t settle for the best. Yet, you’re leaving your partner down there and are here for, what?”

“You’re up to something,” Jun says, squinting his eyes at Becky who tries to smile innocently even with the question. He knows that she’s digging deets even deeper and they need to hear the reason directly from him. They soon are going to work together again, and he trusts both of them—hardship and experience withstanding. “But I’m going to ignore that now and say that I’m here because I choose to be here. This municipal is a dear one.”

“Is?”

“Yes. Is,” Jun emphasizes. “First, Nino is one of the best. Well, I’m better but he’s can handle what I need to handle. He’s been handling everything marvelously down there. Second, Minato mayor race has been one of the milestones of my career.”

“Your first big break with the independent candidate winning by landslide and all.”

“Yes. And I know that that didn’t end with a flourish, but I want to do this again. I want to try. Either for the better this time, or even for the worse. I don’t know yet. When the offer came—”

“—When Fukuda-san called you,” Aiba says, now his chopstick set aside as he listens to Jun’s explanation seriously.

“Yes, Fukuda-san called and I had a week to consider the offer, I couldn’t help thinking back to what happened four years ago and regretting.”

“But withdrawing from the prestigious Fukuoka Governor race means you’re passing up something huge out of your portfolio. This district is a small change compared to a prefecture.”

“You are forgetting something.” Jun calmly begins to explain. He has experienced this exact talk of reasoning before—Nino was hard to lie to, but he pulled that off, barely. Talking this out with Aiba and Becky should be easier. “Minato is not a small change. Not at all. In fact, it might have a slightly more important significance than Fukuoka. As for today. Okay, handling a governor PR during the race might look good on my resume, but so does handling a mayor race in, what I simply believe as, the most important district in Japan.”

“Filled with the international business office and representative in Japan for example.”

“Right. And if you can see it that way, you won’t consider Minato as _just_ a small change.”

“So you do believe in its importance.”

“Becky, you need to, if you are in this business. At least I believe that all this is damn important.”

Quietly, Aiba absorbs this information and sums it up in a sentence. “Sakurai-san is important.”

“Mayor Sakurai is important.” Jun corrects him; the sentence doesn’t actually sound convincing, he is fully aware of that, but that’s the best he got. “He is a good leader and now he’s going for his second term. I have the chance to keep a good leader in office, and that’s what I chose to do.”

“That’s a good way to put Minato and round up a cool answer, you know,” Becky says.

Jun nods and smiles. “Well, Fukuoka is less, let’s just say, interesting. And you need to know that my partner is actually whining that I got a better deal while he’s stuck with the old man.”

“While you’re here, living the high-life, with a hot Mayor,” Becky adds, now grinning.

Aiba rolls his eyes. “You’d tap that, Becky?”

“Nah. He likes pretty guys. I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Jun chokes on his ice tea. “Does he know you’re bring that up in random conversation?”

Becky can be so blunt when she needs to. “Matsujun, I’m having this random conversation with _you_ , the one that he likes, so I guess that’s okay.”

He chokes again on his ice tea. “What?”

“You’re going to get tea stain all over that shirt.” Becky offers him a napkin, but goes on with her point. “You think we never noticed?”

“This is way too surreal and you guys are too smart for your own good.”

“We have a great mentor. He’s strict and pretty.” Aiba reaches his ice tea silently, holding his laughter.

Jun stares into both of his former assistants; Aiba busy looking the other way, pretending to drink his ice tea and Becky openly grinning at him sweetly. “I’m definitely not paying this lunch.”

*

The lunch has set Jun into a cheerful mood. The day, so far, doesn’t turn to be as disastrous as he has expected. Jun at least doesn’t have to deal with guilt for now since meeting with Sho went quite well, in his opinion. Plus Aiba and Becky clearly miss him, not as much as they miss Nino though, and that’s a good boost for his day.

He turns the key to his old Tokyo office and simply stops by the doorway to appreciate the familiar sight. 

He can admit at the very least that he does miss this space—it’s his after all and while it’s been kept tidy and clean by his trusted cleaning service, he consider a good workout is needed. 

Jun then peels off his suit, down to his sleeveless and goes to work. Cleaning and dusting and stopping at times on desks, stack of documents and few framed photographs he finds, going into the cabinet and restraining himself for going too much on taking everything out and conducting a massive rearrangement. 

Few hours later, he takes a look around and feels satisfied, finally taking deep breath, now that the window are open, letting some fresh air to replace the stink of dust.

Pulling his laptop out, Jun sits by his sparkling clean desk and begins to make a plan for the rest of the week, going through his notes and schedule book and then setting them up for the last leg. When he’s done with what the detailed estimate, he decides to call it a day and calls Nino.

“I just want to call to inform you that I’ve dumped all the dust and old files on your table here in our Tokyo office just because I can,” he says without bothering for a hello when Nino answers on the second ring.

“You jerk,” Nino says on the other line. “I can easily retaliate by hacking into your computer and deleting the porn folder here on our Fukuoka office. Let’s see what hurts the most.”

“I don’t have a porn folder. Not there in the office computer at least.”

“And I don’t have a table in our Tokyo office.”

“You do now.”

“Jun-kun.” Nino sighs on the end of the line. “We’ve talked about this.”

“Yes, we have. I just made some slight changes.”

Jun can hear Nino sighs heavier on the other end and he laughs at that. 

“So?”

“Yeah. So. I send you the copy of dossier I got from Aiba. They should reach you tomorrow.”

“Good. I’ll slot a time for that then.”

“Did I interrupt you on something?”

“And you just asked this now, after a full minute of being an insensitive jerk on the phone?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I need to pause my game for a while so I can get back to it when you’re done being annoying.”

Jun chuckles. “Hopeless. And speaking of hopeless, I just had Aiba and Becky nagging about you over lunch—apparently they miss you even more than they miss me.”

“Good. That keeps you on your toe. How are they anyway?”

“Overworked and enthusiastic as ever, same old same old.”

Nino laughs. “I’ll shoot them an email tonight to schedule some drinking session ahead then.”

“Yeah, you should do that. When I’m back in full speed, I doubt that they’d even get time to have proper lunch.”

“Slave driver.” There’s a noise behind Nino’s connection, “Hey, I need to go soon. Turns out it’s not a long recess after all.”

“I see. No consensus yet?”

“Hopeless cranky old men, really. I don’t know why I need to keep up with these people.”

“Because I am not there to keep up with cranky old men.” Jun says. “You’re missing me already.”

“Yeah, guess I do. I’ll get the read over done tomorrow and then we can conference.”

“Sounds good.” Jun makes a quick calculation. “I’ll be away after lunch tomorrow, so afternoon again?”

Jun can hear rustles of paper and sound footsteps before Nino answers, “It sounds so lively and busy there in Tokyo, I cannot wait to get back.”

“No you don’t. But I’ll take that for now.”

“I really have to go. Talk to you tomorrow, Jun-kun.” This time Nino cuts the line first, leaving Jun no chance to reply. 

Jun smiles as he sets aside his phone, leaning against the couch, straightening his tired feet. 

Then the phone rings again.

 

**Then**

“Stop squirming, will you. People will notice. Can you just hold whatever it is until this convention is over?” 

Sho feels Jun leans on his back, not too close but enough to let his presence known. He sighs on the feeling of Jun’s soft breath on the back of his head, knowing that the man will stand behind him all night if he has to. And now he’s being difficult, he knows he’s being difficult. Being difficult is the only way he could think of right now. “I don’t like this.”

“I sure can tell, Sho-san, but this is not about what you like or dislike. Or whether you’re nervous or not. You are going to do this.”

It took all his strength to not turn around and stare Jun’s face and just ask the man to give him a break, because all Sho wanted is to be not here, especially now. “But—“

“Sho-san.”

And he hates himself, so much at the moment, for caving in so early at the tone of the voice. He might be the one who’s standing on the front row, doing all the smiles and waves and necessities, but now that he is in the middle of this, to use Jun’s word, mayhem, he wouldn’t last another hour if it weren’t for the presence behind him. 

“Sho-san,” Jun repeats, in softer voice this time

Sho could almost feel Jun’s palm running down on his expensive suit sleeve, a comforting gesture he desperately yearn at this very minute, but nothing comes after. 

He knows that Jun knows that he probably won’t be doing anything, at least not now on this grand meeting hall. He knows that Jun knows that he’d push through everything till tonight ends just as planned. He’s going to do this, fair and square, because Jun wouldn’t have it any other way, hell, he himself, wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“Okay.” This time he let himself shifting just a inch to the left and lock his momentary glance of the image of Jun’s smirking his winning smile, for keeping everything as planned, for seeing everything according to plan, for him, for them.

“Good. Focus on your simulation and recite that speech of yours again in your head,” Jun says, his tone flat. “You’ll be fine.”

Swallowing his small laugh, Sho does just that and is silently cursing for the long celebratory night. He nearly convinces himself that he heard a faint chuckle from his back but starts to recite the first lines of his speech instead.

*

The candidate convention is by no mean entertainment; everyone with a good grasp of political turns fully acknowledges this fact, even reverenced the whole process. 

And Jun is here to accompany his first-time independent candidate Sakurai Sho delivering his first important speech. This will not be the last for him or for Sho. Jun senses how much pressure can send a man who usually doesn’t deal out of his comfortable classroom into a nerve wrecked state. This is the real thing; all the practice sessions they’ve been doing for the last month will pale in comparison. 

Jun stays behind the spotlight, slightly leaning toward the wall on the side of the room. He always prefers the dark and shadowed nook, knowing that spotlight isn’t the one he wanted; yet it does give him immense pleasure to stand by the margin, in monochrome, along with shadows to observe his charge, in the opposite, stand on the center of attention, under bright light and of brilliant colors.

Jun’s mind is filled with only one thought: Sakurai Sho is fucking radiant tonight.

*

Of course, Sho stumbles. Of course. 

How does one pronounced ‘liability’ again? And then so many complicated words, and he blinks twice on a kanji character. Why didn’t he listen to Jun’s suggestion of making notation of furigana just to simplify everything? _I can read it just fine, I don’t need furigana’s help. I’m not a high school boy, I can read my kanji. Are you questioning my competency?_

And now Jun can see Sho failing on what he has prided as his skills. And why the hell didn’t he try to rephrase ‘facility assessment program’ and turn it into something easier to pronounce, like trying to say ‘a program’ or something simpler? Out of all that he needed to speak in public, his speech tonight is probably the only one that didn’t have a presentation slides alongside. 

Jun knows that everyone’s eyes are on him, sizing him up, judging him, probably flicking their mental files for their knowledge of Sakurai Sho, the Keio lecturer with an ambition of becoming a Minato mayor. They are probably asking the question: who did he think he is? 

Between the flashes of moments, Jun couldn’t help to ask the same question toward himself.

Sho bows his respect and leaves the stage still in the middle of the dry compulsory applause. He doesn’t come back to the side of the stage—where Jun stands—instead he goes back to his chair, table front left, along with the gentlemen who nods at him in welcome. 

*

Sho stays there for the rest of the night, until the last candidates finish delivering their speeches before excusing himself and making his way to find Jun. He pulls out his phone, dials the number, and doesn’t even wait for a hello. “Where are you? I’m walking toward the front lobby.”

Jun chuckles lightly on the other side of the line. “On my way. I’ll be there with the car in 5 minutes.”

The car air-conditioner is heaven for the first 10 minutes before the silence begins to hang even colder atmosphere between them. 

He doesn’t want to ask, doesn’t want to make any demand, doesn’t want to do anything else but to bury himself under soft things, to be not there on the convention hall, to be somewhere else. 

When Jun finally breaks the quiet, a suggestion, a gesture of celebration at the end of a long day, Sho nearly lets out a huge sigh. “Yes. That sounds good.”

 

**Now**

Jun is definitely not expecting to see Councilman Nagase’s private number on his phone display. They have spoken at length the week before Jun went to Tokyo, detailing the party’s stance and his responsibilities this time. Is there an emergency?

“Yes?”

“Matsujun, I am not interrupting anything, right?”

Jun rolls his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No, Councilman. As a matter a fact I am just settling in my old office after meeting with the Mayor office today.”

“Good. That’s good.”

“Can I help you with something?”

Jun can hear a long low hum and the sound of the street on the background. The councilman must want to set him on a meeting, but with whom?

“I’m having a very late lunch at the Plaza. Can you stop by and then chat a little bit?”

Chat? That usually means serious business so Jun checks the time and does a calculation. It’s already late afternoon, and since the office is now pristine and sparkling, ready for him to start working tomorrow, it’s probably time to call it a day. With the rush hour peak in a few hours, detour to the Plaza will cost him an hour or so. Jun can then probably still make it for his late dinner meeting.

“Fine. I can be there in an hour or so.”

“Great,” is the last thing Nagase said before cutting the line, leaving Jun frowning at his phone. Always last minute, always demanding, always straightforward with his request, Councilman Nagase sure knows how to time his request. 

Jun gives his office space one final look, satisfied with his hard work all afternoon, went to the bathroom to freshen up, changed back to his suit and locked up for the day.

*

The traffic turns out to be manageable, so Jun makes good time, just under an hour, to the lobby of the Plaza. He heads directly to the restaurant because there’s where the Councilman must be. He has said about having late lunch after all, or Jun can head to the bar later if his first guess is off.

“Councilman,” Jun says in greeting as he stands by the dining table, bowing slightly. 

“Matsujun.” Nagase turns to him with a bit meat sauce on the corner of his lips. “This meat is terribly good. Have a seat and join me. Their specialty today is excellent.”

“No thanks, I had lunch already,” Jun says, raising his hand and having the waiter appears before him with a polite smile. “Ice coffee for me, please.”

He waits for Nagase to have a couple more bites as he settles in his chair. When his order arrives, Jun figures it’s time to get to business. “So?”

“So.”

“We spoke not more than a week ago. Is there anything urgent? You already know I’m back in Tokyo.”

“I do.” Nagase lets out a satisfied growl and cuts more pieces of meat. “You should try the steak, really, it’s deadly.”

“Councilman,” Jun says patiently because he knows Councilman Nagase for a long while now; the man can be difficult when he wants to. “You summon me and now I’m here.”

“How’s Sho doing?”

Jun raises his eyebrow; that is one question he hasn’t been expecting. “That’s why you asked me to come all the way down here? To hear my report on the Mayor?”

Nagase shrugs, reaching for his ice water, and giving Jun a serious look. “I know you’re meeting him today. How different is he now?”

Jun doesn’t know where this conversation is heading but he tries to gives his best shot. “I do expect him to be different, or he wouldn’t be the man who sits on the office for the last three years.”

“Well, I have it on good authority that this time it’s going to be very different.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Nagase picks up his fork and continues with his steak, humming.

“Councilman, with all due respect, you’re withholding something.”

“Matsujun, everyone is withholding something,” Nagase says, setting his fork down and stare at Jun intensely, as if he’s trying to hint at something, before he continues, “including your favorite Mayor.”

“Wh-what?”

“Dig deeper. And when you’re done, I already have several proposals lined up for you. One of them is about Murakami. You know the guy, right? That hotshot is actually trying to run for Osaka Mayor this time around. We can definitely benefit if you could arrange a take over on his messy campaign. We are not entirely satisfied with how their PR team handled the candidacy. Seriously lacking of style. I could really use your talent there.”

“Osaka? You’re offering me a project? In Osaka?”

“You know my number. Let me know at the end of the year. I’ll be waiting.” Nagase wipes his mouth, leaning back against Jun and for the first time showing his teeth in a happy smile. “That was a treat. Now what should I get for desert?”

Jun barely holds himself into suggesting the famous Mont blanc. He stays silent, knowing that the conversation about Sho is over before it even started, and stares at his untouched ice coffee glass. 

What now?

*

Busy small streets by the day have turned quiet after dark. Finally everything feels calm, humid, while still a bit suffocating. Jun strides calmly, glad for his own slow pace. He knows where he needs to turn, to go into another small street. 

He arrives at a larger intersection, across the first small park near Ikebukuro, breathing the sense of nightlife with the promise of escape enclosing him. All he could think of is that he really needs that cold drink, and he doesn’t care if he’s coming to his appointment a little bit early.

He takes another turn before stopping in front of a small shop, its front barely lit with a makeshift board glimmers and spells _Umbrella Clock_. He slides the door aside and enters the shop, with the familiar miso scent floating in the warm and cramped place. Faint stench of cigarette and alcohol along with distinct and out of place Okinawan music greet him. 

The place doesn’t change one bit, then again Jun expects that everything will be the same here, in this place, if not others. It is few minutes after 9, just the perfect time. 

Ohno steps out his tiny and cramped kitchen to greet him. "Welcome." He smiles politely before grinning openly. “It has been a while, Matsujun.”

Jun nods his hello at the man behind the counter, the owner. “Yeah. Good evening.” 

Ohno walks toward the end of the counter and gives Jun his full attention, setting the condiment tray aside, as if Jun has never been absent in visiting the shop. "What is it going to be tonight?"

"I’ll leave it to you. Dealer’s choice?"

"Coming right up," Ohno says with a soft smile; Jun has missed this, the end of day when he can sit back and enjoy the food. "The first beer bottle is, as always, on the house."

Jun grins. “Thank you.”

The _katsu_ is crisp and perfect. Contentment runs through him as Jun pours the last half of his beer and asks Ohno to join him—with a new bottle of beer. Seamlessly conversation turns to Sho again; Jun should’ve seen that coming.

Ohno lets out a sigh, pouring more beer into both of their glasses. “He still frequents here, you know. Ever since you went to Fukuoka. Every few months, he gets drunk with my best sake, eating to his heart content.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you are thinking of asking, right? You’ll find out sooner yourself after all. I’m just offering some inside info.”

“Ohno, I haven’t seen you in almost a year and suddenly you’re unexpectedly nosy.”

Jun only heard soft chuckles in response before Ohno takes a glance to the clock and turns to go back to the kitchen. “I'll prepare the chicken curry then.”

Jun sighs—end of day and beginning of everything else. It finally feels like he’s _really_ coming back to Tokyo. As he glances to his right, the same painting that has always been here since the first day he discovered Ohno’s place reminds him of their first ‘visit’.

*

“I don’t want to be rude,” Sho says, gesturing at the painting with his glass, “but what the hell is that?”

“Ohno never answers my question about that painting. All I know he drew it sometime in the past and there’s that,” Jun replies with a laugh. Now that Ohno has taken care of their order, he finally can lean back against his chair and straightens his feet. 

He reaches for his glass and gesturing for Sho to do the same. “We’re going to drink tonight off. First of many. A celebration for a successful night, Sho-san.”

Sho clinks his glass with Jun’s and accepts it as it is for now. “Cheers!”

They both takes the first long gulp, savoring the cool liquid, the sign of a day ending, with quiet a lush.

“Oh, this is the best.” Sho sighs with content, allowing himself to swipe his mouth with the back of the hand. It’s only Jun and it was a night to celebrate, so he doesn’t bother with propriety. “I haven’t thanked you, for tonight, for everything. The convention wouldn’t work so well if it wasn’t for your prep.”

“You are the one who did all the work on stage. And tonight is on me even if it’s still early to even start our praise toward each other.”

Sho’s laugh is lighter, deeper and much more heartfelt. “Are we going to do that? That sounds very unlikely. Unless you’re planning to make me very drunk tonight.”

“Dare accepted. Let’s see who ends up piss-faced on the table first.” 

Sho laughs and takes another look behind, satisfied by their seclusion from the rest of the shop, from the rest of the world, from the rest of almost everything. It’s only him and Jun in this deep nook of the shop. “This is a very interesting choice by the way.”

“A flattery, coming from you,” Jun answers, absently, turning his focus on the counter and smiling as Ohno comes back to their table, reading to take their order. “Anything else, Matsujun?”

“Matsujun? Him too?” Sho’s gaze turns fast into Jun’s eyes, before going to the Ohno’s face, smiling at the calming presence and a sleepy smile. 

Jun replies Sho’s questioning gaze with a small smile and turns back to Ohno. “How about the lunch set? And then I want some French fries for no reason. Appetizer.”

Ohno giggles at the request, making a scribble on his notebook. “It’s way past dinner time and you’re ordering the lunch set.”

Jun reaches for his beer, settling it in front of him, asking Sho. “Anything you want? Those fancy food for dinner was long gone, right?”

Now that Jun mentions it, Sho is starving. “Yes, please. What do you have?”

Ohno turns his attention to Sho with a hint of surprise and grin, before frowning at Jun. “He hasn’t told you?”

“Tell me what?”

Jun goes to reach for Sho’s beer across the table, settling it in front of him, fixing the coaster. “What do you want? What do you want to eat now? Even if you don’t know what’s on the menu?”

“What I want?” Sho could only frown before craving hits hard. “Sashimi?”

His answer draws laughter from both men; Ohno’s amused while Jun’s warm. 

“Lunch set. French fries. And sashimi,” Ohno concludes before disappearing back to his counter. “Coming right up”

“What was that? Am I going to get some sashimi or was he just joking? Were you just joking?”

“Sho-san,” Jun starts, they are both hunkering on the table, reluctant to raise their voices, now that they are in a quiet shop. “He’d let you know if he couldn’t prepare you certain kind of food. But as long as he’s nodding, he’ll get you it.”

“So sashimi and lunch set?”

Jun laughs at Sho’s confused expression. “Well, yes.”

“I don’t quite understand.”

“You don’t have to.”

*

Sho enters the shop at precisely 11 PM, ringing the bell and having Ohno greets him with the same smile the man gave Jun an hour before. He settles next to Jun in the counter, while Ohno goes back to the kitchen to finish his prep with the curry. 

Sipping his first beer, also in the house, Sho says with a satisfied sigh. “I never actually thank you for introducing me to this place.” 

“Ohno will not get any other splashy costumer who’s willing to pay his exorbitant bill if you don’t at least visit him once a month,” Jun says, not looking at Sho. This conversation is better to do without gazing into each other tired and bright expression after all. “And since I wasn’t around, I think it’s safe to say that you’re the reason his still doing business right now.”

“That would be an exaggeration. But still I keep on remembering something I could not pin down about this place and ended up being a patron, even if it’s only once a month.”

“He’s the one who should say thank you, to you.”

“If we didn’t get drunk here that day, I probably won’t be here anyway.”

“That’s too much for a thank you.”

“Actually, it’s two thank yous.”

Jun turns and sees that Sho’s now looking straight down to the content of his beer glass, with a soft smile. He doesn’t want to talk about this, about things they’ve been avoiding for the past years, not on his first night back in town, but apparently Sho was thinking otherwise. “Very subtle of you.”

Sho chuckles, lightly. “I’m going to be better this time, Jun. I’m going to be good.”

Jun picks up his chopsticks and goes for the pickles, maybe they really need to talk about this. “You’ve always been good.”

“I’ve been botching everything like a stupid jerk but I’m going to do better this time.”

Jun sighs. “Aren’t we all mature and proper?”

“That we are,” Sho replies softly in a voice tinge with regret.

“That we never are.” Jun corrects Sho as he turns to see Sho’s serious face, and smiles. “There’s a drip of beer on the front of your shirt.”

“Oh shit.” Sho fusses with his shirt, and that gives Jun time to settle himself. 

He has this thought that they will no longer has this game played, but perhaps soon he needs to admit that he was wrong, again. 

They drift off in their seat, in silence, in their own hazy thoughts, slightly drunk—to a new beginning? Well, not really. To unfinished business? To a second chance, Jun wants to say, but he doesn’t. For now, as he sees Sho’s eyes brighter than when they were at the office, his cheeks pinks prettily, they’re drunk and time is on their side now. They have time to go back to where they started and do everything all over again.

If separation was what they needed, they’ve done it already and now it’s time for the actual game, for another beginning.

 

**Then**

Jun has tried his best to not keep tab on Sho, the Minato new Mayor, but sometimes he couldn’t resist the temptation. It is always only a click away, only a timeline away, only a newspaper article away. Being miles away has given him the illusion of distance but truth is he stays close, as close as he could without being noticed. 

He is silently grateful that Becky constantly floods his inbox with messages, updates and gossips—along with Aiba—sharing some updates, giving him news even if he claimed he doesn’t need anything, linking report of Sho’s new policies and various articles featuring Minato new development. 

They have decided to continue working as Sho’s chief of staff—positions Sho also has offered him personally. 

As it went, keeping his distance most of the time is not an easy task. Nino is firm in his not wanting to cover Jun for their required travels to Tokyo. And, he still visits Ohno when he can’t find any solid excuse to avoid the memory, choosing to seclude himself on the far corner of the restaurant and broods.

One time, when he’s at his most vulnerable state, he almost takes that taxi, heading to the airport, and flies back to Tokyo. 

Sho has hit his first big snag: one councilman didn’t entirely agree about the public library policy. Jun remembers that they discussed the draft when he was still in Tokyo. The councilman is trying to gather public sympathy to trump Sho and getting him to cancel the motion. Jun wants nothing more than to write the press release himself and then stand beside Sho during the counter press conference.

Yet, he does nothing but sitting in his cold living room in Fukuoka, taking a day off from work, watching the live feed from the Minato website channel of the council meetings. He sees Aiba standing next Sho, calm and composed. He catches glimpses of Becky when the camera pans to the audience section, busily making notes as the proceeding continues. 

Jun muses as he sips his lukewarm beer, watching Sho tackle one question after another with cool and eloquence. He’s at the moment is also grateful that he had suggested the website to have a live streaming option. He creates a good system, a great team, and Sho is completely fine on his own. 

Somehow, the pain doesn’t lessen, but he goes back to work next day and promises himself to not be engulfed on memories again.

Sho has never once tried to contact him the next few years and Jun is gradually growing both grateful and irritated for all his one-sided consideration. 

Until that day the phone call arrives. 

Two days later, Nino barges into his office, drops the plane tickets unceremoniously on his desk, and gives him one long hard look. “I paid for this fucking expensive one-way ticket personally. I’ll wring your neck with my bare hands if you are too stupid to use this and burn this amount of money.”

 

**Now**

They agree on keeping most of the first meeting on Sho’s office—after hours, of course. Since Aiba and Becky are not against overtime, they set a meeting room on Sho’s office to be their temporary base.

“It is not advisable to arrange a campaign in your official office. I’ll keep my ears on a good place around the neighborhood. We should move our activities there by the end of the month.” Jun says, when they all finally there in the room.

Becky taps her pen to her notebook. “We haven’t officially begun, so I suppose it’s not against any rules.”

“For now, we’re going with the core member of the team. I suppose Becky, you are comfortable in keeping your role dealing with the media?”

“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” she replies with a smile. “And you’ll see that I’ve gone so much better in this past years, Matsujun. I’m almost invincible now.”

“The local TV loves Becky,” Aiba pipes in. “Mostly because she keeps showing them her signature scary smile.”

Becky turns to Aiba and flashes him the signature scary smile. 

“Oh. I’m shaking in my boots.”

Becky rolls her eyes, pointing at Aiba with her pen. “You’re wearing sneakers!” 

“Still. Shaking.” Aiba chuckles before sobering as he turns to Jun to get back on track.

Jun smiles at the silly exchange; he really misses being able to relax on the job. It has been always tight-up and formal setting. This is a nice change of setting. He continues, “And Aiba will deal with the rest of the minutiae as usual.”

Aiba smiles brightly, imitating Becky’s scary smile. “I’m, of course, comfortable in keeping my role too.”

“Oh, what would this office be without you guys,” Jun says dryly. 

“Point.” Sho hides his amusement with a cough, carefully avoiding Becky big grin and Aiba’s failed wink that are aimed to him.

“So, back to hot topics, even though you two are still officially enlisted as staff, I’ve drafted a rough timetable and a line up of our schedule for the next three months,” Jun continues, holding his gaze to everyone in the room, settling them back in serious mode. “This is an early estimate, one we’re perfecting over the course of time.”

“I can help you to synch it with Sakurai-san’s official schedule,” Aiba offers, back to his early composure and reaching for his copy of schedule. “You have sent this to our emails too, right?”

“Of course,” Jun says. “I’m using your personal address, though. We don’t need to have this conversation on your official ones.”

Becky nods as she reaches for her copy. “Understood.”

“And since we’re all here. Sho-san, mind if we start with you?”

Sho nods. “Completely fine.”

“I’ve asked you to draw a simple presentation on how you are planning to carry the election this time. I believe we’re still working on several issues from the last few years, but I assume you would also have been working with newer statement.”

Aiba and Becky already have their notes open and ready, listening intently. While Jun doesn’t think that whatever Sho would say is something new to them, he also sets his documents and have his notes ready. “So, whenever you’re ready.”

Jun has listened to Sho’s vision speech countless time, but it’s always a treat to be able to sit front row and watch Sho presenting his case, conveyed with his natural sincerity.

As Sho goes through his main points, Jun finds himself thinking back about the hours they spent together during the campaign, four years ago, when Sho’s eyes were shining so bright, when Jun could only see Sho and his vision and his dream. 

He finds it easy to vision that within less than a year Sho will be back in the podium, delivering the same speech but with much more finesse and confidence.

Sho still has it, Sho has once again makes him believe in his ideals as a campaign professional, that it’s all about their voters’, their supporters’, their rivals’, and their own dreams. 

Sho’s direct question shakes Jun back to the room. “How’s that?”

Jun stares into the blank screen, blinking his awe away. 

It was a great presentation, he must say. Sho has pointed out all the details of his economic plan, or whatever that is, Jun lost his thoughts on several details—he just couldn't make out those figures and charts, but overall, now that he’s slowly recovering from the surprise and seeing Sho’s nervous face, waiting for his response. Jun lets out the first thing that crosses his mind, his true and raw opinion. “It was a great presentation.”

And if Jun knows Sho he would know that the statement would only draw another question. 

Sho doesn’t seem any satisfied of the answer either. “Great how?”

Jun sighs and smiles. “We’ll get into details later. But as far as presentation goes, I can see that you’ve improved significantly. You were good back then, and now you’re even better.”

Sho isn’t at all convinced though. “But if it’s well done, you should be able to give me a detailed assement.”

Jun laughs now. 

“I also expected a round applause, or something like that.”

Becky and Aiba dutifully applaud, with wide smiles on their faces.

“Sho-san,” Jun says, slowly clapping his hands, smile blooming wider in his face, an repeats his praise, “That was a great presentation.”

“Fine.” Sho gives in on that, with a small pout. “But I demand mean critiques later.”

“You’ll get it.”

Jun’d be lying if he says otherwise; Sakurai Sho is impressive and hell if he’s able, Jun will probably vote for him himself. 

*

After the meeting, when Becky and Aiba have excused themselves to head home first because they have early morning the next day, Jun sits next to Sho in his office. 

Since their first meeting, it’s the first time they spend some alone time. Sho pours them some coffee and they settle on the same position as the first time. 

“It was a great catching up today, Sho-san,” Jun begins when Sho seems to be content to be lost in his own thought. 

"I was near before to show you the ropes,” he continues when Sho only takes another sip, “to fix problems we both haven’t encountered before. Now you’re smarter. I have people I can deploy and hiring more of them now will be easier. You only need to set up a real campaign office, and then we can settle in a nicer headquarters and we can have people—I supposed there will be a lot of them—volunteer to work on your campaign.”

Sho listens as Jun gets on with his explanation, contemplatively.

“And I can set up committees and have them run smoothly by the beginning of next year. It’s all in the planning—we don’t need to go through all the groundwork now. We have that covered already.”

Sho nods again.

“And I’ve, I mean, we have done this before. It won’t be difficult to do it again.”

Sho finally lets out his opinion. “If you say so.”

Jun frowns at the answer. There’s something on Sho’s tone, just for a split second that doesn’t sound right. He turns and finds Sho still on his seat, listening with his fingers twiddling with the seam of his suit. “What’s that?”

“What’s what?”

“That tone,” Jun says, and Sho gives away just a sliver of spark that send Jun back to his chair with his full attention on Sho. “What? What is it?”

“Nothing.”

Jun eyes him carefully, squinting his eyes in question, but Sho holds his gaze without a flinch—later he’d blame the whole politics manner for teaching Sho to do so—and he finally lets it go. Sho will get around it, he supposed he knows the man, and he’ll put it on consideration. 

It’s something to smoothen later, Jun decides, but not now, not so early into the planning. “I can see that you are, but you’re not telling me. And that’s okay. I’ll get to that later, for now we’re just going to finish this overall planning and done with the basic.”

The look Sho aims at him is partially challenging and grateful and Jun sets aside his concern, for now. He’s sure there’s going to be surprises up on Sho’s sleeve, but for now, he’s going to hold all the professional pretenses and do his job. 

It’s the reason that he’s back after all—or so he keeps telling himself.

 

**Then**

The final public—and recorded, and televised and to be later eternalized by streaming sites—candidate debate has been one of Jun’s main concerns.

But at the big day, as their intense practice paid off handsomely, Jun stands on the side of the stage with pride threatening to burst off his chest.

He notices that Sho has put up his best public face on display, with a soft closed mouth smile and serious eyes giving full of attention to everything around him. He can see that Sho constantly makes a valiant effort to keep any frown off his face, keeping his gaze neutral, keeping his interest of anything that comes to his face mild, showing mild interest of anything for the sake of presentation. 

Sho is going to be the Mayor of Minato, a good one at that. If Jun hasn’t been dead sure before, he is then. 

*

Smart presentation is always key, Jun keeps on reminding Sho.

That afternoon when he repeats the words at the end of their presentation practice, Sho ends up storming out of their tiny office in flaring anger and obvious frustration.

Jun sighs tiredly, taking several deep breaths, before following Sho outside. On the tight space of the their one floor office, Sho has nowhere to hide. Jun can easily find him squatting next to the water dispenser, his hands covering his face, his breathing still irregular.

Jun doesn’t say anything but he is tired and they really need to get this practice down before the next night. His mind is telling him to shout at Sho for being such a difficult person, but his heart has him sitting on the floor next to the man.

“You can’t go on leaving the room like that whenever we hit a snag,” he begins, softly. “I’m only asking you to get a make over. It’s not like you need to rewrite your manifesto or anything.”

Sho stays still for a moment before giving up and finally sitting in the floor with a low crouch. He turns to scold Jun further with an intense glare that Jun will keep on remembering for a long while, unmoving and stubborn. “I am not going to a beauty salon with you.”

“Fine,” Jun says with a sigh. “You can go by yourself. I have a few I can recommend—“

Sho growls, and somehow Jun feels like it was worse than if Sho’s throwing expletives or things across the room. 

“Fine,” he repeats. “You can go to any place you feel comfortable with, I don’t care. I just need the end result to be presentable. That’s all.”

Sho turns away from Jun, groaning with frustration and starting to pull his hair. “I am not a goddamn model.”

“You are a public figure. If you’re not now, you soon will be. And again, it’s all about smart presentation.”

Sho’s hands in his hair stop moving, and he turns again to Jun, still with the same stubborn expression. “I’m doing just fine in the presentation department so far.”

“I’m not only talking about your presentation skills, Sho-san. It’s also is how you present yourself to public,” Jun says, before Sho growls again and he adds, leaving consideration out of his voice because this is a non-negotiable matter. “I don’t think looking shabby, even with a freshly shaven face, is enough. You need to look chic, not too suave, but presentable.”

Sho blinks, and Jun knows that he’s at least listening if not considering Jun’s points. He continues with more reasoning. “The public needs to know that you are taking care of yourself, because you are basically making an offer to take care of them. I surely don’t want anyone who looks, no offense, shabby and tired, like he’s been up all night grading his student papers, to represent me in the mayor office.”

“I know a straightforward offense when I heard it.”

“Then you should have seen the point in all this,” Jun says with a hint of frustration. Sho’s being ridiculously stubborn over something simple and it is beginning to grate his nerves. It’s not like he’s asking the man to dye his hair blonde or get a faux Mohawk. It’s just a damn haircut. 

Trying another approach, Jun begins again with a soft voice, “I fail to see why it is so difficult for you to accept such a simple concept.”

Sho huffs and stands up abruptly, leaving Jun in the floor. The next thing Jun heard is the slam of the office door. Jun couldn’t even bring himself to roll his eyes and just sighs tiredly to sit down on the chair—Sakurai Sho is a piece of work, really.

*

That night when they are waiting in the candidate room before the debate, Jun watches Sho walking nervously in circles, taking a glimpse in the mirror every once in a while.

“Please stop touching your hair,” Jun finally says. “And could you just stop? You’re making us dizzy with your circle.”

Becky, sitting next to Jun, clutches her folders with the same amount of nervousness, and adds. “Plus you’ll get the suit ruined if you keep moving, Sir.”

Sho walks on another small circle before stopping in front of the mirror, touching the tips of his bang for the nth time that night. “But I am liking this fluffy feeling. It’s soft and it’s curled just right.” 

“The voters are definitely going to approve that,” Jun says and waves his hand at the empty chair in front of him. “Now, would you please just sit down? They’ll call us when they are ready, which is not going to be in another 20 minutes, I think.”

Sho finally sets himself on the chair and together they stay silent in wait once again. Minutes tick slowly and this time is Becky who’s getting impatient.

She bids her time and when Sho appears to be fixated on one of the painting on the corner of the room, she leans to her side and whispers, “Matsujun, do you think we’re forgetting something? We might forget something, don’t you think?” 

Jun only nods before he whispers his reply. “Maybe.”

Sho quickly turns his head back to the two of them, almost jumping out of his seat. Almost. “We are forgetting something?”

“We are not forgetting anything, Sho-san,” Jun says, his tone is not actually very comforting but at least he sounds quite sure. “I sure hope not. Becky was just checking.”

Becky nods, as convincing as possible. “I was just checking, Sakurai-san.”

Sho gives them a questioning look but he’s then leaning back against his seat and closing his eyes. The door to the hallway has been opened the whole time, and from time to time they could see people walking back and forth in preparation. 

“I just can’t sit down,” Sho says to the room, leaving from his seat. “I’m not going to walk around the room, but I can’t sit down.”

“Okay. Standing is fine, but no excessive movement, please.”

“I don’t know why I’m so nervous. Just by looking of you, Sir.” Becky sighs at the sight of Sho now standing beside his chair. She turns to Jun with a small smile. “I’m so nervous. I’m sorry, Matsujun.”

“No need,” Jun says, calming her. His eyes meet Sho’s and they both give small nods to each other. He turns back to Becky and chuckles to see her now trying to even her breathing. “No need to be both nervous and sorry, I mean.”

“It’s easy to say that, really,” Becky says, “the wait is killing me.”

“You look not nervous,” Sho says to Jun.

Becky gives him a look but Jun just shrugs. “I’m definitely the most nervous between us three. But I am not the one who’s going to be under the public scrutiny in,” Jun takes a quick glimpse to his watch, “nine minutes.”

Sho sends him a look, the same kind Becky has given him seconds before. “Your encouragement is really doing it for me.”

“You’ll be fine,” Jun says, with a smile this time. He turns to see Becky and pats her in the arm. “It’ll be alright.”

“I sure hope so,” Sho says as he and Becky share a look before shrugging in synch. 

None of them calm themselves, but it’s always better to know they all share the same nervousness. 

*

That afternoon, after their first practice on Sho’s campus office, Jun settles back on the chair across Sho’s desk. He deliberately doesn't reach for his teacup and leans against the seat to wait and observe Sho in his turf.

Sho finishes half of his cup—something Jun suspects a move of courtesy, now sits straight up and tries to not stare back at Jun as he waits for the next thing to come up in their discussion; he reaches up to fix his crooked tie and ends up crooking it up a bit further, a distracted gesture, or perhaps it's intentional, Jun can't decide now, so early into the meeting, and makes a mental note. 

Sho glances up to meet his serious stare, the distant sound of people rushing in the corridor filtered into the office and yet they both make no other sound. Jun flares a short silent challenge: _I’m still waiting for your comment_.

Sho clears his throat and holds his glance longer than Jun has expected of him. The silence is more pronounced now with only faint knock on the door perhaps from the next-door office, Jun feels like he can hear the afternoon light made it way to the floor next to the window and he still keeps his silence. 

Finally Sho breaks first, reaching for his cup, cradling it idly on his hand instead of taking a sip and says, "So. Jun?"

Jun takes a glimpse of his wristwatch and notes, eight minutes and twenty four seconds. Not bad for starters; Sho will have to practice on holding silence treatment gracefully later. 

"Yes, Sho-san."

"How was I doing?” 

Sho still looks too eager, his curiosity and slight annoyance clear on his tired face. Jun mentally notes that he will need to have Sho trained to school his expression better.

"In?"

Sho barely holds his eye roll, and that, Jun thinks, is a small achievement. "The preliminary arrangement practice."

"First, I truly apologize for making you uncomfortable during the session. That was probably too much, but it was necessary," Jun begins, setting his observation for now. He has ample opportunity in the coming weeks. There’s no need to irritate Sakurai Sho even more than necessary. 

Jun continues, offering a small smile. "I know we haven't gotten to know each other for long. I can see that you're still uncomfortable with the arrangement of me working with you, but we'll get there soon."

If Sho notices that Jun gives nothing away about their practice, he doesn’t mention in. "You are unexpectedly observant."

"Sho-san, I am nothing if not observant." This time Jun’s smile blooms even wider. "Do you need my observation in writing report? I can get it ready by tomorrow. Or if you want, I can give you the gist right now.”

Sho barely keeps his emotion under the surface. “Look, I know I am being annoying, and that’s mostly because I don’t know you, I am forced to work with you, and you were annoying first. But whatever this mind games you’re playing, I don’t like it, not a single bit.”

“You don’t have to like it. You don’t even have to like me.” Jun leans forward to put down his note on the coffee table, meeting Sho’s eyes with a determination. “We will work together. I’ll be such a pain in the ass, and you’re free to be the other pain in the ass. And you still will be the Minato Mayor in one and a half year. I’ll make sure of that.”

 

**Now**

In the next few days, Jun settles into the routine seamlessly. Until lunchtime, he works in his old office, drafting plans and rereading materials Aiba and Nino have provided him. After lunch, he heads to the mayor office to head the campaign meetings.

Sho has agreed on trying several of less traditional campaign approach while also keeping focus on several of the old school approaches from the list. Along with using the open car and door-to-door pamphlets, they are preparing a new advanced system of online campaign, integrating social media and other viable platforms. 

Jun has reasoned that the new approaches will shift the entire perspective of the campaign quite radically. Yet, it is one of the plans he would highly recommend. Sho will need a much modern approach, considering the swing middle age voters and the decrease of beginner voters. The system will also require solid foundation in the beginning. Once everything runs smoothly, it will be easier for Sho and the rest of the campaign teams to yield good result.

This afternoon, before he heads to the municipal office, Jun spends longer time preparing his notes and documents. The plan for the preliminary is finally settled. He finishes the midterm project draft for Sho to approve about the finale round at the end of the campaign period. Everything has been catalogued and he makes sure he reread everything based on Nino’s notations. His partner has also made extra notations on several articles that required their attention. It only makes Jun even more conscious and slightly nervous about the meeting and preparation. 

The security no longer stops him for thorough check now that Aiba has made sure Jun has his own long-tem top-level visitor card. She nods at him in greeting and he can directly goes to the mayor office level.

On the small corner room they’ve been using as their ‘meeting’ room for few days, Jun finds Sho has already waiting for him, reading newspaper with his laptop open in front of him and a soft sound of an unfamiliar hip hop songs from speaker.

“Good afternoon.”

Sho looks up from behind his newspaper, greeting Jun with a smile.

Jun sets his bag and documents on the corner of the table, across Sho. “I don’t know you have such a free afternoon today.”

“We slot the entire afternoon for this meeting after all. I have two hours before I have a meeting. I already read your forwarded email this morning and we have a lot of ground to cover.” Sho says and sets his newspaper aside before closing his laptop and leaving the room. “I’ll let just Aiba know that you’re here and then we can start.”

Jun unpacks and settles his documents on the desk, plugging his computer and preparing the presentation. He’s arranged everything in a tight sequence so they can have the discussion on the exact order. 

Aiba enters the room, greets Jun, and takes a seat next to Sho’s, ready with his notebook. “Becky will be joining us after she’s finished with her meeting downstairs.” 

Sho comes back with a tray of coffee and takes one for himself. “Ready when you are.”

“Sure,” Jun says, taking a deep breath before he begins. “You’ll have the proposals in front of you. And I’ll have the general points of the proposed plan. First is, we have here—“ 

Jun covers one slide after another, slowly going through point by point, from the first to the next. Knowing Sho, Jun has already put specific emphasize on education but he also has another point concerning the elderly voters. “Since I was involved in the original drafting years ago, I am fully aware of that these emphasizes are important to you. But Sho-san, I don’t think that you can continue with only highlighting education.”

“I believe I have properly covered other fields. We develop few significant literacy programs through the years,” Sho says, turning to Aiba to get confirmation and receiving a nod. 

Jun knows this already, had even anticipated Sho’s comment. “What you need is to add more incentive for the swing voters. Statistics shows that less young people will participate in the next election. You will need new approach in order to pull the elderly into the voting booths. They actually comprises of old-fashioned people. I don’t think that it’s wise to keep on highlighting education.” 

“But I do have programs for the elderly.” 

“Still it might not be enough, or perhaps, what I’m most worried about is the notion that you only have the programs as complementary element to your office. Nothing significant is done, publically, about the elderly program.” 

“But—“

“Yes, I am fully aware you have those programs publically. But it was not splashy. While I completely understand that you don’t like splashy publication, this is municipal service we’re talking about. If they are not included, they could use the term ‘indifference’ against you, saying that you have failed to provide service for your voters.”

Sho stares at him for a long minute. 

Jun was expecting a glare, or probably at worst, a walk out from the office episode again, but Sho only stares and then says, “You’re right.”

“I know I am.” Jun answers, but not without a frown, something is giving off bad vibes again. “And as I was saying, these programs I highlighted here are the most probable, if you are thinking of making a splash about it.”

Aiba takes a cautious look of both of them before he raises his arm. At Jun’s nod, he says, “We can use the radio channel instead of the streaming channel. It still functions and is updated regularly. I remember reading the latest report that says people, I suspect the elderly, are still listening to radio. Maybe that’ll do?”

“For a start, that’s even better,” Jun says. “This could count as additional campaign and a very good use of advertisement.”

Sho leans back on his chair, folding his hands in front of him and staying silent, his eyes showing nothing but mild interest. Jun’s eyes meet Aiba’s and they share an unspoken question.

“What’s wrong?” Jun finally voices his concern. “Do you disapprove of something?”

Sho mutters his answer. “You are better.” 

“Sorry?”

“You’re better,” Sho repeats his answer louder. “You today are better.”

Jun is fully confused by now. “Sho-san, it’s not the time nor—“

“You asked what’s wrong and I answered,” Sho cuts him with finality in his voice. “Are we going to finish your presentation or should we continue to details instead?”

Jun decides that it’s better for Sho and Aiba to hear the entire concept before they move into discussion. So, he continues his presentation and this time, Sho begins to make notation on his notebook.

They go through the short list Jun has gathered, making notes and discussing fine points from each proposal. Aiba deals with notation details while Sho gives suggestion for improvement. Jun puts several of his ideas forward before Sho decides which one should be adapted for the campaign plan. 

The meeting continues and when Becky finally joins them, they are down to the last fine points. Jun concludes the meeting with appointment for another meeting within the week. Becky goes with Sho to their next meeting and Aiba stays to work with Jun on the notations and arrangements.

“Matsujun,” Aiba says, now that the door is closed. “What was that all about?”

Jun drops the documents on the table before dropping himself in the nearest chair. “I don’t know. What’s wrong with him today?”

“I don’t know. What do you think it is?” Aiba takes a seat in front of Jun and slouches on top of the pile documents he needs to deal.

“That’s my question to you, Aiba,” Jun says. “Was there a complication in work today? Or something that could set off his bad mood?”

“I don’t know,” Aiba says. “But I can say that he’s been in like that since you’re back.”

Jun laughs at that. “So now you’re blaming me?”

Aiba grins. “Maybe. Depends on whether you’re going to smack me for it or not.”

“Depends on whether it is true or not.”

To Jun’s surprise Aiba is not laughing over his threat. He leans further, lowering his voice and says, “On a serious note, Matsujun, what do you think that was about? Is he in trouble.”

“I don’t think he is in trouble, but you’re right, there’s something.” Jun pauses, trying to remember whether there are hints from their earlier meetings. “I just don’t know what.”

*

That night, Jun trudges slowly toward home after descending the station’s stairs, wanting to have another round of beer before he goes home, but he calls Nino instead.

“So what happened? You cannot handle the mayor alone?”

As usual, Nino doesn’t give any prelude when he answers Jun’s phone, which is exactly what Jun needed this time.

“I haven’t even said hello.” Jun sighs onto the receiver. “And that’s not what I’m going to say.”

“Why else would you call me? How are things there?”

Nino chuckles on the other line. “How are things _there_?”

“Everything is working according to plan, and no, there’s no need for you to come up here and check on everything. I got it covered. And since you asked, how are things _there_?”

“It’s progressing. We should have a fixed schedule by next month and I’m missing you.”

“Ha!”

“Yeah, ha,” Jun lets out a laugh. “I haven’t gotten around with the secretary interview, and I was hoping you just get down here and deal with the paperwork so I don’t have to hire anyone. I’m not actually in the mood to mold a trainee.”

“Then, go hire the professional. We can afford it, and you know that’s true, since it’s coming from me.”

“So far, I can handle things alone. It’s just—“

“Yes?” 

“It’d be easier,” Jun sighs. “It’s just, I’m not really sure if it’s been the right plan to go as we did four years ago, or not. It doesn’t feel right, you know. Something’s missing here and I can’t really pin it down. Is it me? Or is it Sho-san? Or the whole political constellation here in the metropolitan area? I don’t know.”

“You know it’s not the Metro thing,” Nino assures him. “I have performed a thorough check. You read the break down of lists I made for you last week, I’m sure. It’s the same old. Metro voters doesn’t actually fluctuate that much. It’s supposed to be easy?”

“But something is not right.”

“And that’s why you’re there,” Nino says, already anticipating that Jun will cut him through his explanation, he adds, “if you think otherwise, you will be here dealing with the councilman and send me up there.”

“I guess so. I just hate to not know, and it’s weird with Sho-san, too.”

“Weird how?”

“He’s withholding something from me, from us, from everyone. I don’t know what it is but I’m sure it’s not something small. I can’t get it out of him and it’s annoying.”

“We’ve dealt with annoying people before. You are one of the most annoying people yourself. Could you try to pull it out of him, whatever it is?”

“A compliment from you. How rare.”

“Very dry response, Jun-kun. I can tell that you’re blushing over it,” Nino replies just as dry. “Anyway, the convention starts next month and I think it’d be better for us all if it’s all settled by then.”

“Those hearings on Fukuoka courts better not extend till winter, or I’m going to drag you to Tokyo.”

“You never play nice anyway.”

Jun doesn’t reply, and Nino doesn’t prod further. They keep each other on the other line, and Jun can hear that Nino is shifting some papers, probably just waiting for Jun to finish what he has to say.

“Why do we take this job again?” Jun asks, softly.

“Because you believe in him,” Nino says after a beat, he’s being careful and Jun sighs over that—pity isn’t something that he wishes at the moment. “You still do.”

“I don’t even know what I was thinking. It was the first thing that came up and we took the offer in a heartbeat. So what if I found him fascinating and it’s almost broke my heart to pieces when I have to leave him to do what he was destined to do for this goddamn district.”

Nino hums on the end of the line, and Jun continues.

“I feel something big is going to happen. It’s just like that bad vibe we’ve been getting from that Minister of Defense, when we lost our biggest client two years ago, but worse. We salvaged enough from that mistake, and now the stake is higher—or even lower, I am not sure, but something is wrong with Sakurai Sho this time.”

“I can offer to fly there first thing in the morning but that’s not what you need. What do you want me to do?”

Jun doesn’t know the answer to that, and he doesn’t try. He never needs to with Nino.

“Jun-kun, get drunk, or something. I can’t believe I’m giving you lame-ass advice but at least it’d work.”

“I need to find a new bar to hang out then. I can’t go to Ohno’s without having my mind veering back to the work I left in the office.”

“Good, that’s a spirit.”

“You’re no help at all.”

“Well, you only hire me for my charm, not for being an ear.”

“Still.”

“Good night. I have homework for tomorrow you know, the court report is two inches thick, I think I will need a new reading glasses soon.”

Jun finally smiles that night. “Put that in for reimbursement. I’m feeling kind tonight.” He then hangs up rudely on Nino.

 

 **Then**.

Not over few hours ago, they stand just outside Ohno’s place when they turn and find each other’s eyes, lost in alcohol haze and shining with open want. 

Sho tries to keep his hand folded while Jun pushes his inside his trouser pockets. They are done with their teasing dance, the sideway longing glances, no longer care for the consequences, wanting each other, knowing that they want each other; that much is clear in a humid summer night. 

Tonight they are not holding back.

“Whose place?”

“Mine is closer,” Jun says, almost in trance, as he breathlessly tries to peel his gaze from on Sho’s lips before he manages to add some sense into his plan. “And safer.”

Jun doesn’t wait for Sho to voice his agreement, turning to head back to the main street. They share the taxi trip in powerful silence and back in Jun’s apartment Sho instantly presses himself against Jun by the door, finally taking pleasure on the shared heat. 

As the moved, they keep their voices to themselves, sharing complete absence of sound, sharing the loud sense of touch.

Tonight is the night, the first, and, Jun swears by everything that’s holy, the last. 

They take their time, not wanting to loose the moment. While alcohol has given them daze sensation, their minds and their senses are sharp and clear-sighted. They drink each other’s sight. Each sighs and moans are treasured, tucked in for distant memory. Each touch is cherished, exploring their limits, exploring what they have wanted to explore for the longest time.

Jun has expected that sex would be the end of night. Or Sho will hastily put his clothes back on after and leave him awkwardly. Or he will snore on Jun’s bed while Jun is in another room beating himself for his poor decision. He certainly isn’t expecting Sho to join him for a smoke by the balcony. 

“I don’t know you smoke.” Jun settles on the dark corner, lights his smoke, and passes the lighter to Sho. 

“It’s been a long while since my last, but tonight seems to be a good moment to indulge.” Sho sighs with a small smile, accepting the lighter and lighting his, slowly taking the first drag. “Fuck, this is so good.”

Tonight is so good moment, and absolutely terrible, Jun wants to say, but he holds his silence. 

When a distant light blinks, a thought of pure indulgence flashes in Jun’s mind. The question he has in mind is completely out of the place and context. He has never sought for compliments, always taking the constructive critiques first. But tonight, with his body loose and light, he doesn’t let his brain stop him from asking. His voice is soft and if Sho doesn’t catch it, he’ll let it passed. “Was it hard work, Sho-san?”

“What was?”

“Getting me out of your head? Trying to make yourself appear like you’re not thinking about me.”

“What?”

“When you are standing out there in the spotlight, facing the crowd, and I’m just two steps behind you, was it hard work to get me out of your head?” There, the complete sentence, Jun sighs.

Jun has wanted to ask that exact question ever since he started this campaign, ever since he stood on the side of the stage during Sho’s first street speech “To focus so completely at the crowd and what you need to say next, what you need to do next, who you need to smile at next.”

Sho closes his eyes, taking another long drag and Jun waits for his answer. 

The skyline view is even more breathtaking tonight with Tokyo Tower on the far corner faintly blinking at them, with nightlight flickering on their surrounding. Jun feels, one way or another, everything is mocking them two somehow. 

“It’s not easy,” Sho finally says before turning with sad eyes and piercing glance, startling Jun. “It’s never easy, every single time.” 

Jun has to remind himself to breathe. 

“Because I know you’re there, just few steps behind me, with your checklist, with your notes, with your support, and the worst of all, with your questions.” Sho turns to his side, turning away from the spectacular view, and focusing on Jun now, completely “I can’t get you out of my head and you will always be there, won’t you, Jun?”

How dare Sho asking him back. He knows he was the one who started this conversation—yet that small nod confirms so much, a bare confession shrouded by the shadows of the night, of Jun willingness to wait a lonely lifetime, if Sho wants him to, “I will.” 

They sit together until their feet numbs and their hearts calm. For the night, for this night, it had to be enough. Sho snubs his last cigarette. “It’s better if I go now.”

Jun could only nod weakly. “Yes.”

Sho lifts his hand, hesitating, and his fingers lightly touch Jun’s cheek. Breath hitched, Jun expects Sho to say something, leaning forward, whispering sweet nothings. But Sho only moves his fingers down to brush the corner of his lips, and slowly, very slowly, stroking gently.

Jun swallows, closing his eyes, collecting the memory of Sho’s gentle touches. He feels his lips trembling in goodbye and understands what Sho cannot promise. When Sho leaves him in the balcony, leaves him to get back to reality, Jun lights another smoke and hopes for the night to stretch into a long dream. 

*

When dawn breaks, Jun’s mind finally aligns with his heart. His body aches in places, his throat sores, his eyes burning, but finally a strange relief washes over him.

He has chosen his own path, fully knowing the consequences of his own action. This night will always be his and his only. Perhaps he has been wishing since the day Sho coolly looked at their first meeting. Sho will never grant him the same warmth Jun received the night before, instead it will be the polite neutral smile when they meet for today’s appointment.

Yet, everything feels good and miserable; Jun has never been thoroughly satisfied and disappointed with his life.

He will need to call Nino to arrange a morning meeting. His partner is going to have a field day, shouting at him for messing up with their dear project. But Nino will eventually understand, even with endless tease and crack joke. He also probably needs to call Aiba or Becky, to make arrangement for the future. It’s one month before the election; he’s sure everything will still work as planned.

Jun then does what his mind tells him to do. He takes a long hot shower and goes to his office, forgoing train, just walking his way till he reaches their small office. He goes inside, go around his table and sits on his chair, turning his gaze outside the windows.

He can see the morning sun lighting up the whole river outside. The bridge is filled with people in an early morning rush. He’s here alone on his own office—the place he built for himself, and he feels his own freedom and the pain that goes with it, even more intense than it already is. 

He already has a perfect rough draft in his head; every word reverberates with his guilt and devotion. When he lines up the blank paper in his desk, thoroughly checking whether his fountain pen works perfectly, Jun doesn’t falter. 

He takes a deep breath, whispers a soft apology for the man he holds dear, and begins writing his resignation letter.

*

Nino meets him at the office just before their lunch meeting at the campaign headquarters. He listens to Jun’s reason and explanation with a neutral face until his story ended with what happened the previous night.

“I know this is going to eventually happen. Why wait until the campaign is over when you can do the irreversible last night, huh? I told you to employ booze, gallons of it I don’t even care, and distract yourself. There are mountains of boring paperwork that could kill you and instead you went for the irreversible.” Nino’s voice gradually hits pitch high before ending his tirade with a shout, “Goddammit, Jun-kun!”

Jun wants to cry, to bury his face in his head, to slip on to the floor, to sit on the floor, drawing his knee up and then finally letting his head rest of the crook of his arm and let his tears flow freely. But he has made his decision and he holds his head high for his choice. “You can punch me in the face if you want. Several times.”

Nino clicks his tongue. “That’s your way. I don’t punch people.” Nino circles to get to the front of Jun’s desk and then kicks a chair, sending it flying across their office. “I kick chairs and now my toes hurt.”

Jun sighs, already thinking of getting some ice for Nino after they finish this argument. “I messed up real bad.”

“You certainly did,” Nino says, taking a step forward to stand beside Jun by the desk.

They stand together in silence for long minutes; Nino scowling his throbbing toes and Jun with his eyes staring straight ahead, staring into the space. 

Jun sighs, in defeat this time. “What should I do?”

“You mean, what _we_ should do,” Nino reminds him. His shoulder gives a light bump onto Jun’s arm.

That is all the confirmation Jun needs. Nino accepts his decision, Nino is staying with him, and they are still a team. Jun doesn’t realize that he had wanted that from Nino, and the light emphasize alone sends Jun choked in gratitude. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You never do. But I’ll get by,” Nino says, leaning on the desk, staring into the same space Jun keenly focusing on. “Say, how about Fukuoka, Jun-kun? I heard they have less severe winter there.”

 

**Now now now**

Jun closes the door behind him and walks straight to Sho’s desk with a determination. They have an hour before their slotted weekly meeting, but before anything else, they need to have the talk.

Sho lifts his gaze from his cluttered documents on his table, his pen hanging on the air, and welcomes Jun with a nod. “I thought we have another hour before we need to begin.”

“We do, but we need to talk first,” Jun says. “Privately.”

Sho narrows his eyes, a scene from the past flashes by his eyes, but he sets his pen aside without another word. He walks around his desk to sitting in front of Jun, his hands in his pocket. “Okay.”

“About last week,” Jun begins, waiting for Sho to nod his grasp of the matter, wanting for them to be in the same context. When Sho hums, Jun continues. “I was thinking that I was getting the wrong vibe, that I was just being sentimental and foolish for reading too much into the situation. But I know, for sure, you’re not telling me something, perhaps holding something important back.”

Sho lowers his gaze, still in silent. 

“Something is wrong, right?” Jun implores. “I was foolish to expect that what happened that night would not ruin everything between us. Of course it did. I was foolish, once again, when I see you’re lacking your utmost focus on this campaign plan, brushing my concern off, telling myself that you have a district to run and you’re busy. I did expect you to be slightly distracted therefore I will keep the campaign on track, making sure that everything will run smooth.”

Sho stays still, eyes still fixed on his shoes, while Jun takes a step back to even his breathing before turning back to stand in front of Sho, with his final question. 

His voice is lower, softer, this time. “Nothing will run smooth, won’t it, Sho-san?”

Jun thinks he’s ready when Sho looks up and meets his gaze, but the simple question has put storm in Sho’s eyes. Jun knows, at that very moment, that his instincts, the hints Nagase has been dropping, Aiba and Becky’s concerns are not without basis, that something is completely wrong. 

Sho has been hiding things from him, professionally, against their service contract. But Jun finds that it doesn’t matter much to him at this point. He repeats his question, wanting an answer, wanting the trust. “Won’t it, Sho-san?”

“It will not,” Sho finally says, his voice low but his gaze fixed at Jun, his eyes reflecting remorse and a faint hint of shame. 

“What is it?” Jun sighs his relief at the first sign of cooperation. “We still have time even if we’re approaching end of term. Would you tell me what it is? So we can deal with it and avoid any complication?”

“Dealing with it wouldn’t avoid any complication. It’s complicated already.”

“Okay,” Jun says, getting the sense of a very serious matter at hand. He needs Sho to lay the problems out of immediately so they will have more time to think about proper and possible action. They could talk this through and plan meticulously to get them back on track. 

It’s obviously because they weren’t on the same track, weren’t reading the same page all along that it was difficult for them to come up with a pace that works for both of them. Jun wants to rectify this, immediately. “Sho-san, we can deal complications. We’ve done it many times before, we can do it again.”

Sho’s eyes turn glassy. He takes a deep breath before, in the same low voice, because they are talking in low voice to coax each other, to convince each other. With heavy sigh, Sho says, “That’s the problem. I never wanted to do this again.”

Flashes of their shared personal moments flash in front of Jun’s eyes. 

Of Sho’s cold stare during their first meeting. 

Of his own breakdown when they failed their third convention. 

Of Sho’s rage when he found out his rivals attacked his family’s privacy. Of their first hug when Sho nailed the preliminary debate. Of their bodies huddled under the blanket, moving together chasing releases. Of their formal handshakes in public. Of Sho’s secret smile, only for him. Of Sho’s shining eyes when Jun resigned before his inauguration. Of Sho’s solemn and serious expression during the live broadcast. 

Of his commitment and loyalty all through this years.

With rage coursing through his veins, with all the remaining calm he could muster, Jun breathes out his reply. “You’re fucking kidding me.”

The remorse intensifies now that Sho breaks his composure, letting himself slouch on his stance. “I myself hope I was kidding. It wasn’t easy for me to come to term with it, but that’s the truth.”

“But I’m here,” Jun says the first thing in his mind. Isn’t he here? “I’m here because you wanted for me to be here. Or you wanted me here so you can drag me down with you? Good God, Sho-san, haven’t you consider the repercussion, the publicity mess you’d have to endured. How about your own untarnished reputation, your name? Are you going to let it all burn down to pieces because of this one selfish act?”

Jun takes another short breath, his chest hurts, his eyes burning, and this time he means every single syllable he’s letting out. “Are you fucking insane?”

Sho swallows, bravely holding his head high now that he has voiced out his decision. “Maybe I am.”

Jun takes a step forward, giving as little warning as possible, because Sho doesn’t deserves warning, doesn’t deserve him, not even the slightest. Throwing a punch, right straight to the face, he can feel dark pleasure the moment his knuckles hit Sho’s left cheekbone. Pain flares on his hand as he channels everything, his frustration, his shock, his love for Sho in one hard swing. “Fuck you.”

Sho drops down to the ground on his knees, bumping into the low table, groaning at the surprise and pain.

“I should’ve kicked you when you’re down there,” Jun spits, panting and clinging to the last ounce of his control, “but I’m better than you.”

“Okay. Okay,” Sho gasps, his hands cradling his face. “I deserve that. But not the face, Jun, you of all people should’ve known about that.”

“On your side then.” Jun then kicks him right on stomach, causing Sho to grunt with pain, curling even smaller on the floor.

Everything shifts for a while and the next thing Jun heard is Becky polite but cheerful greeting as she opens the door. “What—? Sakurai-san!“ 

Becky flies to Sho side as her instinct kicks in. She lets out a scream when she sees blood trickling out of the fresh and raw wound. The commotion is enough to get Aiba to come by the open door, taking in the scene in front of him with a gaping shock.

“And if you think you’re getting my second resignation letter, think again, Sho-san. I’m not going anywhere this time.” It takes all the effort Jun can muster to come up with those lines, wanting to be the one who delivers the last punch this time. “Today’s meeting might be cancelled but I’ll see you Monday morning for a follow up, all proper and shit. Have a nice weekend, Mayor, Sir.”

Jun walks toward the door, his eyes hot with a challenge as they meet Aiba’s. Aiba steps aside when Jun doesn’t slow down, catching the rage on Jun’s face and the underlying hurt. 

He continues to stride out of the building with a dimming rage. He knows that he did a solid damage this time. Sho will probably need medical attention but other than that, he knows that Sho deserves it, even if Jun regrets every single of seconds of it. 

He ends up two blocks away from the ward office and finding himself on a quiet intersection, stopping for a red light and finally able to breathe evenly.

He punched Sakurai Sho, the mayor of Minato City, the man he respected the most, the man he had a solid crush on four years ago, the man that shared his cold bed on night years ago, the man who gives so much that he couldn’t bear himself to ask for more, the man whom he loves. 

He just did.

 

**Then**

Jun closes the office door behind him and finds Sho already in front of the coffee machine. Sho turns and lifts his gaze from cup, welcoming him with a small smile. “Good morning. Aren’t you supposed to be in the municipal office in an hour?”

Jun gestures at the couch at the reception area. “I am, but we need to talk.”

“Okay.” Sho raises his eyebrow, still with a small smile. “What is it all about?”

Jun waits until Sho is seated, his coffee mug set on the coffee table. The morning and closed office provide them quietude and privacy. With all the resolutions swirling in his mind, Jun begins to do what he has to do, saying his point in one go, with all the bravery he could call upon. “I am leaving,” a short painful pause, and Jun pulls out the white envelop from his pocket, setting it on the table, “because I know I’m going to do something stupid if I stay. And you don’t deserve that.”

Sho stares at the envelope on the table, completely still, and the transfixion strikes Jun even harder. He has expected to deal with ice-cold fury, or any other destructive gestures. When Sho hasn’t said anything in the next minute, Jun figures he needs to repeat his point. “I need to leave. Immediately would be best.”

Sho shifts on his seat, looking completely uncomfortable, and if Jun’s intuition is right, slightly miserable, when he’s finally able to say something. “Is this even necessary? You can—“

“—stay? No. I can’t. It would be careless and stupid.”

Sho seems wanting to say something else in retort, anything, but he doesn't. 

For that moment, just that split moment, Jun feels pride burst in his chest, for Sho has become what he has tried to trained the man into. A savvy politician, one who only speaks when he needs to, one who doesn’t show his feeling, one who puts his personal feeling aside for the greater good. A goddamn liar.

When Sho finally leans against the couch, covering his face with hands, the silence returns. 

Jun keeps on sitting motionlessly with his back straight and fingers wrung on his lap, waiting for Sho to say anything. He is ready to map out a coherent plan for his substitute. He even has contacted several of his past collaborators and friends to check up on their availability. 

He’s leaving Sho, but he’s not a heartless and unprofessional person. He’d not leave his client, the project he has worked so hard on, high and dry.

“Is this because of the other night?” Sho says, his hands still covering his face even if Jun can see a slight gap of fingers with Sho eyes staring at him. His voice is very soft, muffled by his hand, but Jun can hear him clear as day. “I’ve been dreaming for that night for so long. And now, with you leaving, all I have is nothing. If I knew that you would leave after that night, I wouldn’t have given in to the temptation.” 

Jun has contemplated on the same question and been troubled with similar regret ever since that night. But, he’s firm on his decision, no matter how painful it is; he needs to do the right thing, and Sho knows that, just like he should understand that Jun will need to leave. “You know I’d need to leave after that night. As much as I do, you know that from the very beginning. We made that choice and we are going to deal with the consequences.”

“With utmost propriety and that kind of shit? I don’t give a damn about it,” Sho says with a muffled voice.

“You’re not allowed to say that, Sho-san,” Jun reminds him. Apparently, Sho is not as calm as he’s trying to be. “As long as you aiming for the office, you can’t say that. You need to give a damn, because you care.”

“That’s right,” Sho rubs his face harder before lowering his hand and meeting Jun’s gaze. His face is flushed but he now breathes evenly. He straightens his back, smoothing down his palms on his thighs, and gazes fixed on Jun when he adds, “You’re right. I do care.”

Jun ignores directed double implications and gives a short nod.

With a swift move of rubbing his tie, Sho shifts back to his cool and composed self, all feelings set aside and tucked deep down, ready for negotiation. “I suspect you already have plan?”

“I do.”

“I thought so,” Sho says. “Let’s hear it then.”

Jun takes a deep breath before he begins. “Nino’s going with me. But I figure Aiba and Becky will want to stay.”

Sho frowns. “You’ve talked this with them before you come to me?” 

“I’ve only talked with Nino because we need to make arrangements,” Jun assures him. “Aiba and Becky could handle the rest of the campaign. We’re down to the final leg after all, I think I’ve trained them well.”

Sho nods, signaling Jun to continue. 

“They should also capable to run your office later. I’m giving my personal recommendation for both of them. The chief of staff position should be Becky’s. She deals better with the media. And Aiba could be her second in line. As the most valuable members of the team, he is better with personal approach and deadlines. Although, I trust you to make the best decision.”

“I see,” is all Sho said when Jun’s done. 

Silence falls upon them again, and this time Jun is the one who becomes uncomfortable with it. He has said what he had to say, done what he had to do. 

“I should get going,” he says, rising from his seat. “I’ll make the necessary arrangement immediately. Everything should be settled by the end of week.”

Jun takes one look of Sho, still sitting down, looking up at him with a betrayed look. He turns to head for the door, knowing that he could not bear to be in the same room as the man any longer, not after all the fronts and walls he put up to submit his resignation.

He is two steps from the door, hand already reaching forward, when Sho calls him, softly, miserably. “Jun.”

He stops, bracing himself before turning back. Sho walks to him slowly, stopping right in front of him. He waits until Jun holds their gaze and whispers, “Thank you. For everything.”

It’s their goodbye, officially. Jun feels pain in his heart and finds himself lifting his hand, without hesitation. His fingers feather on Sho’s cheek, moving down to brush the corner of his lips. 

This time, it is Sho who swallows, closing his eyes, collecting the memory of Jun’s gentle touches. He feels the tremble on Sho’s lips and fighting against the almost unbearable impulse to land a soft kiss. He also cannot promise anything after all. 

“It was a pleasure, Sho-san,” he breathes before he turns and walks out the door.

 

 

**Now now now**

The sun has set on what feels a long time ago. Jun can’t feel his left leg or his back. He welcomes the numbness, wanting it to linger so he doesn’t have to feel the flaring pain all over him. 

He hears the office door opened. It might be Aiba and he’ll turn away and let Jun be after seeing that he’s okay. He’s not going to jump off a tall building or do anything rash, and Aiba will know that. It might be Ohno showing up with his random delivery, sashimi be damned. He’s probably going to go back lamenting and Ohno will leave him be, alone with the sake. 

He definitely is not expecting Sho to crouch down next to him, with a white bandage on his left eye and a weak smile on his lips, settling on the floor next to him. 

Everything that has happened in the last hours comes back like a tidal wave. Jun ducks his head into his arms again and doesn’t bother to hold back silent tears this time. 

Hushed comfort comes first. 

And now everything hurts even more, now that Sho’s here next to him, in Jun’s most vulnerable moment. He feels a soft touch of fingers on his hair before it continues as threading, careful and uncertain. If his emotion dam was broken before, it is unsalvageable now. 

He buried his head deeper, willing the tears away, and next thing he feels, against all the pain, is a pair of arms holding him, along with small hiccups, “I’m sorry.”

*

They stay huddled close in embrace for what Jun feels like long minutes. Yet Sho’s arms around him don't loosen. They share the closeness, the warmth, and the pain—with Jun quietly hoping it can stay like that forever. 

But everything eventually comes to an end.

“Let me go for a while.”

And Sho does, shifting back a little bit, hitting the lamp on the corner of Jun’s table with a small ouch. 

“It’s more comfortable on the couch.” Jun doesn’t like the sound of his voice, hoarse and raw. Screw dignity, Jun thinks, Sho has already seen him at his worst. There’s nothing more to hide anymore.

“Sure,” Sho says, his voice isn’t any better, “or if you have coffee, I can help myself.”

“The kitchenette. Everything’s there.”

Sho nods and Jun makes small steps to the bathroom. Only after he turns the overhead light and locks the door behind him, he allows himself to take another deep breath in the small space. Looking at his own reflection on the small mirror, he curses softly. If Sho’s sporting a black eye tomorrow, he’s going to have a hell of red puffy pair of eyes.

Jun washes his face, takes an aspirin, and tries not to sigh when nothing he tried seems to lessen his puffy eyes. It’s better to get it over with anyway; he is tired and if now he has to handle Sho, he prefers to make it as fast as he can and just get done with it.

When he’s back to the office, Sho’s already sitting down on the couch with two steaming coffee cups. 

“I went downstairs to get these to go. It’s not too good but it’s coffee.”

Another time, Jun would tell Sho that he hates the downstairs café’s coffee, but tonight he nods his thank you and sits across Sho before reaching his mug and taking a sip. “Horrible as usual.”

That draws a small laugh from Sho. They busy themselves with their awful coffee for a while before Sho breaks the silence. “I have my car downstairs. I hope you don’t mind if I offer you a ride home.”

Jun considers it for moment, knowing that he doesn’t have anything decent to cover himself up. A ride home seems like a very good offer. “Okay.”

“Good.” 

Sho visibly winces when he nods and something comes up to Jun’s mind. “Aren’t you under medication or something? You shouldn’t be driving if you are and—“

“I’m not. They tried to prescribe me painkillers but I refused.”

“It must hurt like hell,” Jun says, with a hint of regret.

“Yeah, it is. You did pack a punch. Or punch a pack. I don’t know.”

It draws a small bitter laugh out of Jun and he feels slightly better. “Then you should’ve taken those painkillers.”

“I don’t want to,” Sho says, setting his coffee back on the table. “I want to feel the pain.”

Jun breaks their gaze because it’s growing difficult again to look Sho in the eyes. “I’m really sorry, I just—“

“Don’t.” Sho holds his hand up to stop Jun from going into another fit, “At least let’s not talk about it now. Let’s get you home. I’m ready when you are.”

“Let me put these on the counter and lock up. Then we can go.”

Sho has the engine running already by the time Jun takes a turn to the alley. He goes straight to the car, straightening his suit jacket and is welcomed by a comforting air conditioning.

“Do you still live there?” Sho asks. When Jun nods, he sets into a drive without a word. The sky has already turning dark when they arrive in front of Jun’s building. Sho sets the car into park and kills the engine, turning to Jun who is still leaning against his seat, not making any move. 

“I wish, I really wish, I can offer a solid excuse or justification to what I have done this afternoon, but I can’t. I can only say it’s been a complete surprise and—“

“Jun,” Sho stops him, his tone laced with warning. “As I said, or probably as you said, we can talk about this Monday, all proper and shit.”

“I’m just tired to act properly around you.” Sad honesty bleeds in the words and Jun knows that it’s the truth he has been holding inside for so long. 

Sho doesn’t make any comment on it, only giving a soft offer. “Then, perhaps you should call tomorrow to check up on me, and then maybe we can talk more, all mature and proper.”

“We never are, aren’t we?”

“We sometimes are,” Sho smiles at him, before wincing in pain again. He leans into Jun’s space and for a moment, Jun freezes on his seats. Out of Jun’s expectation, Sho only reaches for the seatbelt and Jun laughs at his own disappointment. “I thought you’re going to make a move.”

“Again, as you said, making a move is careless and stupid.”

“You’re all about throwing back everything I’ve said to you in the past.”

“If there’s anything that today throws, it’s the past. Right back at me, at you, at us.”

“You’re awfully chatty for a man with a black eye.”

“And you need to rest, and I’m just stalling. I’ll let you go then. Good night, Jun.”

He should have replied with a short ‘good night’ and they are all done for the day, instead he turns to Sho, flinching again at the sight of the white bandage. This time, he reaches out his hand to land light touches on Sho’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, Sho-san.” 

Sho’s eyes flutter close for a second before he nods weakly, keeping his eyes closed. 

When he gets out of the car, Jun doesn’t turn back, heading straight to his apartment door. He can hear nothing of engine revving. The thought of Sho’s still there, eyes closed, savoring his fleeting touches, brings a sliver new hope into him. 

*

Jun stands on the side of the stage, blinded by the flashes. 

Flanked by Aiba—who had shouted at Jun, yelling in full fledged anger, and still giving him cold shoulder even after Sho stepped in to give his defense for Jun, and Nino—who’d been waiting at Jun’s door that night, coming straight from the airport, because he reasoned that Jun would need some honest to god miso soup in the morning, Jun observes the press conference. He watches Sho holding his own self brilliantly as streams of questions flown at him during QA session. 

The press conference is held to announce the cancellation of his candidacy, in which he delivers a short speech—one they composed and perfected together—of how he plans to finish his term in office, of his confidence that his challengers will only bring true dedication for a better Minato.

And while Sho shows full cooperation to the press by addressing their essential questions, the vultures press on, growing even more curious of the white eye patch the Mayor’s wearing, adding the mystery of the cancellation announcement. Sho only nods, signaling Becky that he has done enough, and steps down from the stage with no further comment.

When he finally meets Jun’s gaze, Sho gives only a slight nod before making his way to the back room. 

Jun breathes out the mixed up emotion he’s been holding in, sighing in relief.

It’s done. Finally. Their second chance is over and done with. 

 

**Later**

It has been a long while since Jun steps on a college ground—meeting eager faces, bright smiles that have not yet tainted by the harshness of life, buzzing with optimistic vibes, where procrastination and ambition clashes. 

It never occurs to him that he might have been missing this. He’s quite sure he’s not but it’s sure is nostalgic for him to find his way here.

He climbs up the great stairs, passing only few students who are rushing somewhere, slowly walking his way through the empty corridors. Classes are in session and it was quiet at some corners. He stops in front of a tall double door. Faint murmur can be heard from inside along with one voice that he has been secretly dying to hear again since last year. 

He glances the room number on the sidewall once again. _R230_. He’s at the right place, and all he has to do is to open the door inside. Why does being back in a university class make him nervous? It isn’t like he is there for the class, or so Jun keeps on telling himself. 

He pushes the door open, just slightly so he could go through it and slides inside to find Sho is the middle of his lecture. 

The hall is half-filled and no one notices him, or if someone does, no attention is given to latecomers. Complicated graphs and list of points are projected on the double screens. Sho’s clear voice vibrates on the lines of rows, carrying the explanation for what Jun assumed the graphs and points on the screens. 

Sho doesn’t seem to notice the latecomer too; Jun slides into one of the top row seats, lower himself in his seat, straightening his feet, and getting comfortable in spending the rest of the morning in Sho’s _Applied Econometrics and Economy Policy_ class. 

*

“I _did_ notice you entering the class, you know,” Sho says, later when he’s dismissed the students, leaving Jun alone on the back row. 

Jun finally comes down to the top of the rows as he waits for Sho to finish packing his stuff. The man greets him politely, but Jun could see that he is slightly annoyed at the unannounced interruption. Sho adds, “I am not near-sighted.”

“I don’t assume you are, Sho-san. And before you continue to be annoyed at me, let me just say that it was an interesting class.”

“You think so?” A slight frown forms in Sho’s face as he tries to see the trace of sarcasm in the statement. “You really think so?”

“I really think so,” Jun says, nodding reassuringly. “The highlight on employment and its analytical approaches from the few illustrated examples are very impressive.”

“You do think so.” Sho now stares back at him with a hint of smile. “And you were listening.”

“Unlike the students on the front right of my row, I wasn’t dozing in class, Professor.”

It was as good as a greeting as it gets for both of them and Jun has to hold his smile when Sho is laughing over his excuse. 

“They are hopeless sometimes. I’m sure they’ll pull through later during midterm.”

“Well, I sure hope they did, because they missed a lot from today.” 

Sho has finished packing his stuff into his large bag. He looks around to make sure he isn’t leaving anything behind before turning back to Jun. “Say, you have lunch yet?”

“Professor, are you insinuating that I consume food in this class?”

“Ah yes, you’ve been here since morning.” Sho says, leading the way to go out from the side door. “Come on, at least, let me treat you lunch.”

“You don’t need to.”

“It’s just cafeteria food. Nothing fancy,” Sho says. “Then you can tell me what brings you here all the way to my class. I have missed you.”

“I’m in town for a couple weeks and I just want to—“

“—see me?”

“Well yes. Sort of.”

Sho laughs again and Jun can’t help to wonder; it’s like meeting a different man. They’ve endured so many things together, clashing their feelings; Jun knows the man very well but he has never seen this side of him. 

Here, today on Sho’s ground, he seems more relaxed, throwing jokes at him, laughing and completely at ease. 

Sho takes him to the loud and crowded campus cafeteria. Jun has expected that Sho would like to have his lunch in peaceful and reserved corner of a fancy cafe somewhere a bit far. But they end up with double Lunch set special A plus cream soup and single Lunch set special C plus chocolate pudding instead.

Sho is currently slurping his roux, stuffing his mouth with one huge spoonful of rice curry after another. If anything, how oddly attractive Sho is guzzling his food never changes. Jun can’t help to stare and meet Sho's eyes as he reaches for his next bowl.

Sho notices and lowers his spoon. "What?" 

“We need to talk about a lot of thing, don’t we?”

“We do,” Sho says. “But we’re having lunch. Your set is going to get cold.”

“You need to slow down a bit,” Jun reminds him, already reaching for a tissue to set in front of him. There is a drop of curry sauce threatening to drip from the corner of Sho's lips. “You’re going to drip that curry on your shirt.”

“That scold is still the same, even if you’re different now,” Sho says, as usual not caring about food dripping into his shirt, angling his head in amusement to catch Jun’s stare. 

His expression is sweetly unguarded, openly offering a new start. Jun has no intention to say no to it, but now that they have time, why not go slow. 

With a smile, Jun says, “Old habits die hard but and I’m not the same person anymore.”

And Sho smiles back at him, almost identical to the first smile Jun managed to get from him. That wide and bright smile, white big teeth, is enough for Jun, for now.

“Can I stay?” It comes out no more than a whisper out of Jun’s lips, but it sets Sho’s eyes shining with passion that has been held at bay for the past years, no doubt mirroring his own. “Please.”

Sho already nods before reaching to hold Jun’s hand, right there in the middle of the cafeteria, for their new start; third’s time the charm. “It’d be a pleasure.”

*


End file.
